The Art Of Immolation

Do you feel the jaws of my bastardsword when I stab you in the back?
Frost in your spine, immunes you from all pain into a peaceful sleep
Spots of black and blue, dance before your eyes, you’re not hypnotized
You’re just dead
The blade of my sword seperates the bones in your back and in your neck
The art of immolation
I am Jack. I bring you to the land of the dead
You can’t believe it, when you see me, but it’s really me, believe me
Yes. I am Jack. I bring you to the land of the dead
Take my hand and I’ll take your miserable fucking life
Slaughtered, you’re just slaughtered
You dare not to resist me
Slaughtered, you’re just slaughtered
You feeble mortal worm
The art of immolation
Do you feel the jaws of my bastardsword when I stab you in the back?
Frost in your spine, immunes you from all pain into a peaceful sleep
You fail to scream for your breath is cut away from your throat
Just like your head