We reek of rotting flesh  These sheets will not disguise this mess  The open casket heeds a warning to the gentle man  Her paper mache face looks nothing like his wife  Quivering he wants to scream  Quivering he wants to scream  What do I do from here  What do I do from here  I'm haunted by the eyes of her peers  What do I do from here  To bad her head is on the wall with my deer  Please believe it was all in good taste  Her body decomposing slowly by the lake  The pain I feel is temporary  I am a hunter and for that I'm disgaced  The human body is my art and I deface  All that's not me I must replace  I saw the beauty in her eyes and I must take  All that was her  All that was  Because all beauty must be severed at the head