The ires burn red,
Like hell's inferno
In The Slaughterhouse
The chainsaws roar,
In deadly thunder
In The Slaughterhouse
Destined to kill
He slays at will
The murderer,
Of a thousand faces
Maddened to rage
Feet in the grave
Living off flesh,
Of the victims he has slain
In The Slaughterhouse
No guest is safe,
>From bloody torture
In The Slaughterhouse
There is no place,
You can call safe
Inside this house,
Is a realm of Chaos
Enter and die
House of black light
Butcher of life,
Could have you under the knife
In The Slaughterhouse
The corpses rot,
Decapitated
In The Slaughterhouse
Writer(s): Mark Shelton
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