I need your child for a sacrifice
So I stabbed him in the chest
With a butcher knife
I cut out his heart
And I cut off his head
He's bleeding like mad
But your baby is not dead
Thrashaholic
I cut off his arms and I cut off his legs
His mutilated body began to shake
There's blood on the walls
And there's blood on the floor
The Morbid Saint still wants more
Thrashaholic, fuck you, thrashaholic
Thrashaholic, fuck you, thrashaholic
Your baby won't die by the blade of my knife
Getting life from the cord
Cause he's still in your wife
His severed limbs they won't go to waste
It's hard to believe how good they taste
Thrashaholic, fuck you, thrashaholic
Thrashaholic, fuck you, thrashaholic
