Butcher Shop
He lived on the east side of town,
Anger filled his evil frown.
20 years he worked the shop,
Mastered threats and the chop.
He worked best during heavy fog,
Searched for victims that would jog.
Threw them right into his van,
To cause sorrow was his plan.
He made sure to chop each limb,
But first he'd tear off all their skin.
When they yelled, oh please, oh stop,
He'd smile and say - "Welcome to my butcher shop!"
