Sweetness, can't you smell the sweetness? My penchant for slicing flesh You'd bear no witness My sickness A most foul sickness The odor of death still clings to me So sweetly Too sweetly
Living canvas just scream and scream For the last and the only son of divine sickness
I carve flowers in their flesh I always mourn for their deaths To see a fragile canvas rot and wither to dust
The sweetest sweet scent of their fresh let blood Utter revulsion for what I've done This gross repugnant mission is my cross to bear My strength is in their pain Pure hate, pure hate Sacred yet profane Ordained, ordained
My life has taken this vicious turn An absurd icon that you might learn That flesh is weak A soul maligned you cannot trust Because hiding behind a pleasant smile Can be a tormented mind defiled Natured in a world that cultures hate