(Lyrics - Marco Gaminara; Music - Stefan Kutranov)
He was the quiet one, always sat alone Did all his homework, never beaten at home Not so popular or very well known Could get away w/ murder & eventually would The first one was homeless & never missed The second died slowly, he found his gift Their screams brought him pleasure, untold bliss Third took much longer he was enjoying this.
Chorus: Killing for pleasure, killing for fun Watch them bleed, see the blood run Trapped in his nightmare, w/ nowhere to go This world's god, he'll make it so There is no escaping when on the prowl Worse than a bloodhound, he'll sniff you out Once he's found you, you'll pray for death Cold-blooded murder is all you can expect.
Choosing all victims, @ random There's no pattern to be found Some are buried while others are not Most are found long after they rot Never taken from the same place twice Toys w/ them like a cat does mice They're never left for dead Cos he knows they're not alive.
He has no desire to be caught The pleasure he gains can't be bought Takes no trophies from his victims Leaves behind no wanton clues His pride is in knowing, what he's done Adulation of the masses troubles him none He'll never make the front-page news Never become famous, not here to amuse.
Flavour free insanity Got too many scoops as a child He feeds off of your fear & Laughs as you scream, twist, shout Pain is pleasure & death ecstasy He lives for the moment that you die As you breathe your last breath He breathes in & tastes your life.
Killing for his warped satisfaction Your terror spurns him into action The more you struggle the slower you die Hacked to pieces hung to dry One fine day he'll eventually stop When the thrill to kill is gone But until that doubtful day You'd better watch your back.