Blood on the walls Blood on the floor The cold steel breathes Feasting on the corpse The iron hook is driven deep in raw meat, A red river flows right under our feet. The walls are pulsing like a warm living cage, As if this room was alive with this rage. The teeth made of steel are biting the air, The bones are cracking in heavy despair. Everyone enters a human inside, But leaves as a shadow with nowhere to hide. Blood drips down slow from the dirty black glove, The silence is cut by the machines from above. The flesh is breathing under freezing white light, And the eyes go dark one by one in the night. Do you hear that beat? It’s the hearts pumping right before the end! Do you smell that stench? It’s the fear mixing deep with the blood! Slaughterhouse! The bloody hands beneath the ceiling high! Slaughterhouse! The crimson blood is breathing with a cry! Slaughterhouse! The blades are dancing right above our head! Slaughterhouse! And nothing will be left of us but dead! The floor is sticky from the hot heavy stream, The rusty machines are starting to scream. The lungs are filling with the metal and dust, And every single breath tastes like fury and rust. The bodies are hanging completely still in the dark, Like dead faceless prayers without any spark. Something is growing beneath the raw skin, Something very hungry is waiting within. Don't run away… You are already a part of this… You are breathing... The very thing that kills... Slaughterhouse! The bloody hands beneath the ceiling high! Slaughterhouse! The crimson blood is breathing with a cry! Slaughterhouse! The blades are dancing right above our head! Slaughterhouse! And nothing will be left of us but dead! Slaughterhouse! Slaughterhouse! Slaughterhouse… Blood… Slaughterhouse…
