Walking and thinking who is my victim
This beautiful girls or her sweety granny
Whit morbid sikness I will prepare yuor capture
And I will take you into my cellar
To dismember and taste you
A good human steak and a blood shake
Tripe brain cheese an distilled of pussy liquid
Maybe I'm mad
Into my mind there are only bad things
A perversed mix of pain pain and joy
I like see the people suffer
Vision of death and morder

I don't know what normal people think
I would like transfix myself
I want put my hand around your neck
And catch yours soul

Ooohhh my mind isn't sick
I want put my hand around your neck
Maybe I'm mad...
Maybe I'm mad....

Giveme your soul flesh.....blood....brain...bones

Walking and seeking for a new victim
Now I want only some children
It's all in my mind obscurity and pain
But I like kill and rape...kill and rape the new victim
Maybe I'm mad.....