Paroles de Plainfield's Butcher

Many years ago in a small town There was a men different from all He lived alone in a big house Made of flesh bone and blood. Plainfield's butcher is in my head His illness made him a maniac With knifes and hatcets he has slaughtered Living and the dead with no distinction. Corpse exhumed from the cemetery Waistcoats made of human skin Dead flesh scattered around the house A head in a bag placed on a chair Plainfield's butcher is in my head His illness made him a maniac With knifes and hatcets he has slaughtered Living and the dead with no distinction. A bigotted mum ruined him Madness told him what to do Loneliness made him fre