BLACK RIVER BUTCHER (2025)

LILOU & JOHN

My baby stalks me for I turn his blood into a Krakatoan lava flood – he’s gonna kill every guy that comes between.

My baby’s ready on the roof across the street – zooming in on my lip gloss – he’s gonna kill every guy that looks at me.

I KILLED PENNYWISE

I killed Pennywise with the knife of pain, and I laughed at him as he laid there slain – and the fear I felt had become disdain, and he lost his makeup in the rain.

I killed Pennywise, and I sucked his life, every drop of blood from my long white knife. What a life I lived, full of drum and fife, and I longed to hear his bitter strife.

I killed Pennywise, for he bothered me, and the knife ran deep, what a sight to see – and I watched him fall, just like 1-2-3, and with a silly rhyme he ceased to be.

I killed Pennywise – him I used to fear – with a big fat knife, cut him ear to ear – and the gurgling noise that I love to hear, like the final sip of my beer.

SADAKO’S DREAM

I sit by the side of a road, and heaven is big and white and clean. I look down to the forest, turning red in a lucid dream. I see the swallows shade my eyes, my hand against my hair – my long black hair that daddy says he finds just everywhere.

I walk the stairs and watch out cross the field to the old well. Daddy says the hole will lead dead people down to Hell. And when he fingers over me, I see the sky is blue, and daddy says we’ll take a walk – he’ll show me something new.

DEATH ROW

Oh my father, where have you gone? This night is dark and cold and long. You let me fall into the deep, to sit alone in fear and weep.

The ghosts who stalk the cellar walls scratch my eyes and seal the doors. I watched you run up to your car, and drive off, leave me to my scars.

And still I hear the screams in my head, still hear the silence of the dead.

Oh mother, I dreamed you were here, saved me from this crypt of fear. You took me in your arms and I, for a moment stopped to die.

Then I woke up and all was dark, the cellar floor was cold and hard – day and night they cease to be, and slowly so is what was me.

And still I hear the screams in my head, still hear the silence of the dead.

SICK SOUL

The girl with charcoal-black eyes – what does she think when she looks at you from behind her kaleidoscope, built from hair and skin from her nightly head?

There are mirrors in every shade in her face, deflecting the incoming light and the sound of wolfmen running to the moon – the white circle of witches in her expanded mind.

They are like that – people – messed up, entangled in memories, twisted by time.

The boy with rainbow-lash eyes – what does he dream when he walks at night, with a knife underneath his dress, sewn from hair and skin from their stolen breasts?

Wolfmen they come and they go again, leaving behind them a trail of slime, dripping between his legs. The Black River runs where all these young girls go.

They are like that – people – messed up, entangled in memories, twisted by time.

GRANDCHILD

I’m running from the cellar of the old and pale white house – far from the story teller with the skeleton face and the cold embrace, haunting me with black and lonely eyes.

I’m running from the long knife, cutting my pale white skin, and the eyes condemned to unlife – the rule of pain, the shadows’ claim, the edge that slowly cuts its way deep in.

I’m running from the Holocaust, the end to every breath, the chamber full of flesh and wound – “but the dead,” my grandma said, “live on in the raindrops after death.”

The woman with the long-lost eyes looked at me and said: “if you weren’t my grandchild, you’d already be dead. The small girls you’ve heard screaming have danced into the void – the bodies rot in grandpa’s semen, torn up and destroyed.”

“And when you look into the mirror, my beloved child, you will see our faces and know why you survived. You’ll remember all you had to do to stay alive – all you did to keep our naked hunger satisfied.”

And like a breath of pungent air she crawled along the floor, scratching her nails up against the concrete wall. Covered in excrement, she called me to the void, to rot in the dance of children, naked and destroyed.

“And don’t pity the girl you tried to rescue from the blight. Grandpa is the judge, and I’m the jury of the night – she’s dancing with her sisters on a shimmering field of dew, rid of all earthly bonds, free to dream anew.”

And her eyes turned to diamonds on a pillar crowned with steel, as she spoke of emerald kingdoms deep below the keel of a ship that sailed for nowhere, on a sea of clay, with cannons thundering over depth of sea wasp and moray.

MAMA LIZ

She’s got an eye that looks like Jesus, with a silver wrapping that came out of Canaan. She’s got a smile that makes men shiver, fall on their knees and say all the things men say.

You got the blink of eyelids, baby – attention that she gives before she’s leaving. Her eyes are walking on your body, and you fall down and pray to become her prey.

She’s a dog woman. She’s a dog.

She’s got an eye that looks like Jesus, with a silver wrapping that came out of Canaan. She’s got a smile that makes men shiver, fall on their knees and say all the things men say.

You got her ring upon your finger, and she calls you baby, you’re one in a thousand. And she fingers on the diamond, and says perhaps she should go and get some wine.

She’s a dog woman. She’s a dog.

Is she gonna see your funeral? Is she gonna play the mourning widow? Is she gonna spend the money that you gave to her, when you let her in?

She’s a dog woman. She’s a dog. She’s a dog woman. She’s a dog.

DYING DOG LANE

She walked up from the sewer to the street, daddy saw her thru the window of the car as he drove down Dying Dog Lane – her hair in rags and a big black scar running down her neck. Black was the city made of tar.

He had a cock who had the chicken flu. Daddy asked her age and she said thirteen, and he got her into the car – drove her ‘way and he hit her hard, drenched in all her clothes. Black was the city made of tar.

But the cutie had a real good gun, she had a barrel, filled his hungry lung. “Lick my gun!” she hissed, as daddy clicked his swollen tongue: “Judas! Sweet thirteen.” Black was the city made of tar.

ANIMAL X

You think you know my name – but tell me, you ever seen the back of my head? Ever seen the world through these eyes? Ever seen a living dead? Cause the zombies you see on TV, they ain’t nothing compared to me. You look into my eyes and tell me: is there anything called empathy?

You think you’ve seen the worst – but tell me, you ever seen these eyes of mine? My body is a tool for plenty, and my stepfather walks behind. I have buried so many children – believe me, they can’t be found. But if you listen you can hear them in the cellar crawling round.

You think you aren’t scared – but tell me, you ever drank this blood of mine? Not like in a horror movie, but, my heart is ticking fine. But I love when your heart is stopping, like a clock that suddenly breaks, and when your eyes begin to flicker, and finally lose their gaze.

You think you understand – but tell me, am I really evil or good? Yes, I did enjoy the killing, but I also gave them food. You think that I was a victim, but the girls I left in the well, they screamed into the total darkness – I left them there to die in Hell.

THE GOLEM TUNNELS

There’s a cellar beneath the floor – there’s a cellar beneath the floor – and yeah, down there it’s just despair – the pits of the child of the whore.

There’s a girl below the stare – there’s a girl below the stare – and she was me when I was three, in the pungent air.

An Angstloch in the ground, narrow leading down – the Golem is there, you won’t know where – this hill is a burial mound.

There’s a stench of dying – there’s the stench of dying – it’s where you crawl, a bug in the wall, forgot the art of flying.

Down there is the Golem – dark and dirty Golem – girl so white, it ain’t right – the Golem’s skin is stolen.

There is the woman twitching – there is the woman twitching – kept in the dark, the fear in your heart, under skin – the stitching.

There is the room of thin air – you vomit in the thin air – and stand like clay until this day, with long blond hair.

Is death the final redeemer? Is death the final redeemer? Oh no, down here, unbreathable fear, the grave is the world of a dreamer.

Do you have a soul, when the Golem dug its hole? Shut your breath! Burned to ash, kept in an iron bowl.

There’s a cellar beneath the floor – there’s a cellar beneath the floor – and yeah, down there, it’s just despair – the pits of the child of the whore.

TEACHING OF THE MAW

I came to slay your little ones, and break your tiny sword, and none have mercy on my soul, I did it for no lord. Hunger is my only cause and you are all my prey – I told you I would kill you and that you should run away!

I wore a cloak of my own face, and came up from the sea. I came in search of virgins, gold and sex and territory. I woke into the shadows and I walked into the sun – and in my eye you could all see the barrel of my gun.

And now you say I’m evil, but you are all to blame! For some did try to warn you, and told you all my name.

I shared with you a dream of thousand years without a war – but who is she who eats my promise, but a simple whore? And then I burned your villages and ravaged all your fields, I burned your elders in a pile of hay and shattered shields.

So listen my disciples to the teaching of the maw: selfishness is not a sin, but simple human law – each animal is fighting for himself and for his seed, and every death is just another chance for me to feed.

And now you say I’m evil, but you are all to blame! For some did try to warn you, and told you all my name.

I am, have always been, and will forever be your scare – slowly dying in a rope in your Three-Legged Mare. Buried at a crossroad I still come back to kill, to be the king of daggers and the reaping of my will – to be the king of daggers and the reaping of my will.

BLACK RIVER BUTCHER

Can you see? Can you breathe? Can you leave the light behind you? Do you know? I say no. You still think someone can save you.

I will cut, you will cry, you’re gonna beg for “mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me!”

Can you feel? Can you heal? Will there be a new dawn for you? Can you dream? Have you seen all the pain that lies before you?

I will cut, you will cry, you’re gonna beg for “mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me!”

Can you leave, or believe there is still a sun above you? Are you free here with me? Can I be the last to love you?

I will cut, you will cry, you’re gonna beg for “mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me!”

Are you strong? All night long? Will you be alive tomorrow? Dare you choose? Fight or lose? Will you lose yourself in sorrow?

I will cut, you will cry, you’re gonna beg for “mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me! Mercy! Save me!”

FLESH EATER

I’m spinning on a jagged wheel, burning on top of your head, and the friction is carving, carving, digging into the mineral of your skull.

And the grin of flesh-eating spiders spew out acid between their yellow teeth.

I’m turning on a screw to feel, suck all your air away, and the screw go deeper, deeper, crushing the delicate softness of your nail.

And the grin of flesh-eating spiders spew out acid between their yellow teeth.

I’m carving up a lovely bird, into the lid of your eye, and the lump of blacker, blacker, where you had a tongue screams high.

And the grin of the flesh-eating spiders spew out acid between their yellow teeth.

TORTURE CHAMBER

“Hold this rope,” my grandpa said, “don’t ever let her fall. If she does the spike of steel will pierce her to the floor.” I was just a girl of four and couldn’t hold her weight. I heard the scream, saw the spike coming out her face.

What’s the reason to stay alive in a torture chamber? What are the chances to survive when facing mortal danger? What are the chances to keep your soul unsevered by the master, to keep your tremblings, mind’s control in the face of disaster?

And grandpa handed me a knife and said what must be done, and when I stabbed her in the eye, what was me was gone. I knew I had to choose my way, obey or die alone, strapped onto the bed of pain, deep in flesh and bone.

I cut her bloody nipples, cut them with my knife – the twitching of her body, the ending of my life. I could not feel a single thing, my mind was frozen numb – I just helped him best I could, just let myself succumb.

That girl’s still my shadow, her torture is my shame – I choose to do the cutting, choose to lose my name. And still I close my eyes now, and still I try to sleep, and still I see her look at me, when I stab her deep.

JINX

I cannot feel my sadness, it lurks behind the curtains. I cannot feel my solitude it walks within my shadow.

I cannot feel my heartbeat, just something that is moving. I cannot feel my empathy, I cannot feel my love for you.

The only thing I feel is fear – fear of what I see in me.

SNAKESONG

Trapped in the eyes of my duality. Who is the one looking back at me? What is the crack in my identity? How can I not fear humanity? What is the sign of their mortality?

Lost in the maze of my duality. Where is it from, my sexuality? Where do they go, the children that I see? Why must they die to reunite with me?

Unlocked, the door of my duality. After a kill I feel tranquility. Why am I not the one I want to be?

I name the rooms in my duality. Is there a name for my black fantasy?

Trapped in the eyes of my duality.