In the house where the mad man resides
Darkness, shadows
Seven stiffs beneath the floor lie
Torsos, bodies
Dire smell form the dead below
Sour blood, putrid feet
But what to sell when the budget is low
Man flesh, man flesh!
Dead and gone, flesh for the public
Eye by eye, sold in chocolate
Lung by lung, in fine pulp lies
Stand in line, for the gore inside
Skin made gloves
Blood sausage
Nails as chips
Bowels soup
Fresh baked tooth
Tongue in bun
Dead and gone, flesh for the public
Eye by eye, sold in chocolate
Hair by hair, in toothbrush lies
Stand in line, for the gore inside
Dead and gone, flesh for the public
Eye by eye, sold in chocolate
Breast by breast, blended with rice
Stand in line, for the gore inside
10 new recruits in my fast food chain
Hunger, famine
But what to do when no dead-stock remain
Refill, fill up
First to come are the waitress long legs
Slice them, sell them
Second comes her boyfriends big eggs
Cook them, fry them!