Flesh Desperados - Ribspreader

Memories of salty sweat

Pouring from a frowning face

Deep thoughts of dismemberment

What to sever next

Limber fingers pulling

Bones from out its flesh

Skin sewn into a bag

To carry the remains of this mess

Left to swing in the wind

For someone soon to find

A perfect gift for anyone

Non machine washable

That’s what we were

Flesh desperados

Waiting for a train

With passengers to massacre

Masks instead of sombreros

No guns only knives

And the occasional hatchet

And of course the much needed bone saw

Flesh desperados

Waiting for a train

Departure towards hell

Next stop utter pain