Deathmask - Autopsy

Recognizable no more

I’ve deflowered your corpse

Robbed it of its identity

The face was yours now it’s for me

Looking thru eyeholes of another’s face

Adhered to mine, my mask of death

From the latter of my kills

Stripped from the bloody hunk of head

On my shelves my favorites

Plastered on foam mannequin heads

The rest are used as flesh wallpaper

Over one hundred dead

A fetish my collection

As it constantly grows and grows

A mystery to the public eye

Leftovers in the road

Another night another face

I wear my last victim before I erase

Another life another knife

To once again be utilized

Freelance surgeon blood emerging

From the orafices freed of flesh

When I wear a face

It brings me closer to your death

When you die I do not care

I’m gone without a trace

I’ve left behind a messy corpse

A stiff robbed of its face

The feel of wet skin upon skin

The blood runs down my chin

Each time a new disguise

I’m seeing thru your eyes