BINS

 Slaughtering to angelic violins
Accompanied by silent mandolins
God told me go and purge their sins
The needful slaughter, now begins
Rohypnol mixed in cocktail gins
then muffled screams like rattling tins
Duct tape bound up wrists and chins
Slice off skin, steak out with pins
I’m makin a suit from human skins
Ive got a white dress like Marilyn’s
Now nobody laughs, no one grins
We almost look a lot like twins
Boo-boo be do
As for my pathetic victims
Well; I’m only taking out the bins