Knife cuts things that deserve to be cut.
And sometimes the things it wants to cut.
Swallows its pride down to the gut.
But at times, it lets the pride swallow it.
Once it does, the knife becomes blunt.
It cannot be controlled anymore - its urge to hunt.

Nobody moves; they are armed with sharp blades.
But I was told that the tongue is sharper than the sword.
With one single move could send you straight to Hades.
And you could lose every chance of meeting the Lord.

Demons trapped in prisms;
I slit throats for a living.
Won't send them to prisons;
The only thanks that I'm given.

I sent him to the Creator.
Blood came squirting out of his orifices.
Like how his girlfriend cums.
Naigara Falls; my body count must be over a gazillion.
Still I thirst for more.
His menacing vainness; now his in the clouds inhaling vapour.
Lurking and stalking as I leave behind these corpses with slits.
As if they...