By The Dawn Of The 13th

13th is the day of the carnival murder,
The cannibal feast will rise and you know the meat will not be spared

13th is the day that flesh will not be washed
12 guests to satisfy the hunger of the uninvited one.

The killer is found out, eerier than his disguise
The 12 souls are nailed by horror to their sits
The madman states at the twelve tasty bodies

A black bloated tongue leaking humours on naked meal
Rumors of teeth chewing the skin
Call into existence some unbelievable titles
Remnants of peeled torsos lying with eyeballs hanging.

Anatomies detached from their spines
12 Masks and a gruesome jestet.
Behind his mask a defaced creation
The creature is shallow-laced, a matter of putrefaction
Upper lip writhed, fangs on the fiery lunch, bone mincing

Throats are paralysed, blood will be drunk
Terrifying laughs into oblivion
The feast is over, the dawn will rise