Human Chop Shop

Sawed off limbs littering the human chop shop Dead bodies left rotting in piles Heinously dismembered Reduced to nothing but a mountain of dead flesh Gone, never to be found Cold corpses abound Blood spilled everywhere Rot Death consumes the air Disposal of the dead is how I make my bread Customers in droves, seeking my skills Making people vanish is my specialty I never turn down work, just pay the fuckin fee Scalpels, forceps, hacksaws, tools of the trade First removing digits, next I'm pulling teeth Making sure there's no trace that this lump of meat is you Never worked a day cause I love what I do In my human chop shop, cadavers are erased Unidentifiable, not a single trace Make a Y-incision to open up the breastplate Fiendishly removing all the viscera In my human chop shop, cadavers are erased Unidentifiable, not a single trace Trace Not a single trace Smashing your bones Bashing your skull Ravage the spine Savage decline Place the scattered parts In tightly tied bags No one will ever find you Dig your resting place Gone... deceased