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Mrs. Murder has a lot of dirt on her shoulders
Brushes it off, takes a bow to the crowd,
shows off her magic tricks and jokers,
the Jack of Spades disappears, cheering's loud.
She snaps her fingers, and her helper appears;
The masked magician's little 'damsel', young in years;
She steps down into a long wooden box,
Mrs. Murder grabs chainsaw and fastens the locks.
A cut through the middle and the crowd is wild!
A cut through the bottom and none pity the child.
A cut through the top and the floor's bloody-tiled.
A second glance - Mrs. Murder has red on her teeth,
A false magician with false magic, luring sheep,
And in the end all that they do is weep.
An accident, of course, it must be so;
heaven forbid if we reap what we sow?
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