Machette Testo

The sharpening is a wonderful process,to think the blade will meet your neck,
more reason to continue on and press,
ever so slowly as skin is torn to a wreck
Why won't you give in?
The screaming just makes it worse,
your limbs are simply thrown in the bin,
chunks of carcass all around leaves nothing but a curse
Machette,
a deadly tool of the trade,
impossible to clean from the mess I've made,
inflicting wounds as deep as your lies,
mentally ripping it through your hypnotic eyes