Bodies Thrash

4'o clock pm, little back home,
Has misgiving to suffer is parents one more time
Pushes the door, no cry, no shout, no scream,
Just see two bodies inert
Pushes the door, no cry, no shout, no scream,
Just see two bodies
Inert lay down in their blood
Blood on the ground,
Blood on the wall,
Smell flesh, awake but dreaming
No anger, no pleasure and no tears
Just butcher's knife and no luck for those he meets
No luck fot thode he meets
Blood d