| As I sleep, bedded down
|
| I’m awakened by the sounds
|
| Of people moaning in the halls
|
| I think there’s bodies in the walls
|
| They scream at me, they yell at me
|
| They tug at me, are they out to get me?
|
| They want to make peace or to talk to me
|
| They need my help, these bodies in the wall
|
| Under my axe, the walls crumble down
|
| Sure enough, what have I found?
|
| The rotting remains of human bodies
|
| Some are screaming, some are crying
|
| They scream at me, they yell at me
|
| They tug at me, are they out to get me?
|
| They want to make peace or to talk to me
|
| They need my help, these bodies in the wall
|
| They cry because their lives were cut short
|
| They scream for help, their last resort
|
| But the only way I can help these souls
|
| Is to find the person responsible
|
| And when I do, it will be his last call
|
| I’ll stuff his body in the wall
|
| But he won’t be dead, he’ll be alive
|
| A fair price to pay for such a violent crime |