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Police are knocking at my door
I lay huddled on the floor
Do they know my Misdemeanours?
My antique coat made out of limas
The woman's head chilling in my fridge
The family of six thrown off a ridge
My table lamp from screaming skulls
Necklace made of milk teeth pulled
Decaying corpse in my bath
The hundreds fallen beneath my wrath
My canvases made of human skin
Padded walls to avoid the din
Let them in and take my fate?
Feast on bread from a metal plate
I'll open the door see what's the crack
'Excuse me sir your library books aren't back'...
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