A madman sits inside his chamber, tainted by a bloodied moon
With no emotion his deadpan features disguise his impending doom
Fists of steel, made to crush, they wield with mighty blows
Hammers, so used to blood, so many have been disposed
Blunt... force... trauma
Blunt force trauma!
Blunt... force... trauma
Blunt force trauma!
The need to kill, sadistic thrill, he sets out for the hunt
Eradicate, obliterate, to kill with a lethal grunt
A truce is raised, with endless rage, fists fly through the air
The hammer strikes, in the night, blood splatters everywhere
Sickend by the bloodied sight, the carnage at his hands
Mystified, he can't deny, he cannot understand
His need to kill, to smash at will, this random act of death
Glorified, a media prize, eternal unrest!