| I was wasted
|
| As I left Ivan’s Inn on my knees
|
| A murder of mutants
|
| Gibbered in garrulous glee
|
| A shot rang out
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| And it startled the freaks in the sacks
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| A hatchet was hurled at a dog man
|
| As they mounted a violent and vicious attack
|
| Limbs were bit while pants were shit
|
| Eyes gouged out from fleshy pits
|
| Fists met faces, boots met brains
|
| Cobblestones slick with the blood of the slain
|
| Bodies cleaved in twain
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| Death campaign
|
| It beggared belief
|
| The madness I saw in the streets
|
| A fat one was gnawing the head of a canine
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| A skinny one gnawed on its feet
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| Thundering engines
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| Grew louder, approaching the fray
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| Leather and chains, splattering brains
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| From up in the statue, the order, «Obey!»
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| Faces were peeled with murderous zeal
|
| Howls for mercy were left un-appealed
|
| Fists met faces, boots met brains
|
| Cobblestones slick with the blood of the slain
|
| The slaughter could not be contained
|
| Death campaign
|
| Acid-throwers melted struts
|
| Scaffold overrun with nuts
|
| Ruptured rivets shattered bones
|
| A mangled metal hell
|
| A hail of screaming bodies
|
| As the great colossus fell
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| Back to the Inn for a flagon of gin
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| Covered in carnage, my head was a-spin
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| Drowning in liquor to deaden my pain
|
| Haunted by that death campaign |