Luyện nghe bài hát Misfortune

Like to the slaughter
He lures them to their
thoughts fill twisted mind
A for tearing flesh

Friendly face, a
He traps them after
Flat chested, six year old
The type makes him drool

his vile tool
Child to the bed
his rod, the pelvis snaps
Sheets stained and red

Frustration tears his mind
The in his brain, making him insane

His tool hosts, a magnitude of corpses
and scattered
Bloodied meat on the floor
From bodies slashed and

Sickened brain, repulsive
Feeble torn apart
Finger with body fluids
abstract art

Stark mad
horrid dreams
Horrors of his made reality

More than flesh and can bear
uncontrolled
Feeble drifts away
Corpse lies still and