Slave to the Scalpel 200 Stab Wounds

Easy to see
Internally I bleed
Ringworm takes its toll
In my rotting hole

Stench of must drapes from the walls
Brain gel seeping out of the eyeball
The skull is leaking
Stew made out of you
Murdering the bastard cause I told him to

Baphomet, killing spree
What do you see?

Fall to your knees
Giving me life
When you go under
You must embrace the smell

Slave to the scalpel