My hands guide his razor
My words tell the tale
Your screams are for nothing
His will is the law
He seemed like a good boy, until we saw his hands
His world was a clean one, until he breathed of smoke
My hands guide his razor
My words tell the tale
Your screams are for nothing
His will is the law
It says in the papers they call me the skinner
And I've got the tools to make you all thinner
Straight ones shine, serrated ones glimmer
And soon you will beg to embrace the sinner
It says in the papers they call me the skinner
And I've got the tools to make you all thinner
Straight ones shine, serrated ones glimmer
And soon you will beg to embrace the sinner
His faith was a strong one, until he came of age
His world was a traitor, until he found his way
His art scares the weaklings
His words scathe their souls
His breath is of ashes
His words are of smoke
It says in the papers they call me the skinner
And I've got the tools to make you all thinner
Straight ones shine, serrated ones glimmer
And soon you will beg to embrace the sinner
It says in the papers they call me the skinner
And I've got the tools to make you all thinner
Straight ones shine, serrated ones glimmer
And soon you will beg to embrace the sinner
His prey cries in horror
His lips crack a smile
His paint coagulates
Your skins, canvases
It says in the papers they call me the skinner
His art scares the weaklings
His words scathe their souls
His breath is of ashes
His words are of smoke

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