Creative juices flowing And it's graveyard raiding time again Engulfed by darkness Digging for my art Which is my only friend Stuffing in potato sacks The ones that suit my special need Burial was but in vain They still come back with me Hacksawing away at rigor mortified cadavers Set aside the right limbs To consruct my latest skullpture Maggots into flies They buzz before my eyes, breed in my hair I turn my corpses into art It is my life, nothing compares The smell gets my mind in gear Helps me decide which parts go where Forearm sewed with stitches thick Onto someone's sliced off dick Woman's face removed with care Still attached to scalp and hair Put it on my face and stare And think of what comes next Kneecap pried off with screwdriver nailed to foot Decorated with toenails Now I look at the pair of breasts I've severed On my tray Sew the two together Flesh is brittle and grey [Lead: D.C] Another masterpiece is now complete A mass of arms and legs and hands and feet Stomach draped about drained of their bile Skull atop the rotten sting pile