You Are The Craftsman Testo

Alone in the kitchen standing there horrified of what's to come. All you can do is wait. All you can do is cry. These tears turn to blood before your bloodshot eyes. These tears that you cry.

All your fear is used for the evil you don't know you're becoming. You will feed on the mold that grows on the people you'll be killing. Knives are your tool as if you're the craftsman of gore. Lunge at your victim and impale that fucking whore.

The blood pours from all the holes in your face. Your heart beats so fast. It explodes all over the place.
The blood pours from all the holes in your face. Your heart beats so fast. It explodes all over the place.

The goddess of fear is going home to her palace. She will cut deep into her veins and drink the blood as if it's champaign. The paramedics to the gods are already too late. Its too late