The Surgeon

I march along white corridors
Neon light upon my skin
Adrenaline is in my veins
The operating room is calling me
The patient lies still on its back
Eyes closed, flesh alive, pulsating
A defenseless quiet breath, it excites me
I grab the scalpel, calm and steady
An addiction in my head
An addiction to bloodshed
Cut wild open, butcher, slay
Inhale the smell of blood, get high
Cut wild open, slaughter, slay
You're under my control, now die
They push him along white corridors
Neon light upon his sleeves
Restrained he writhes in his straitjacket
Drug-addled, yet his mind conceives
The most delirious, blissful visions
That cloud his predatory gaze
The alerted warden cleans her needle
“Tie him down, just let him dream”
An addiction, my head aches
An injection is what it takes
Cut wild open, butcher, slay
Inhale the smell of blood, get high
Cut wild open, slaughter, slay
You're under my control, now die
Cut wild open, butcher, slay
(Cut wild open, butcher, slay)
Inhale the smell of blood, get high
Cut wild open, slaughter, slay
You're under my control, now die