Insanities incision, oh what a preoccupied
Decision
In place of fear, the piano mans death
In place of laughter the devils breath
The sacred good luck and the in flittering good bye
The sacred treasuries of a man that is dead and no longer alive

The scorching fire against his skin
The blood red eyes that bleed within
I pray for you, my old devil within
I am so fond of you my old Mr. Devil you

Laughter and its echoes of no remorse the cuts
From incisions so tempting
and loving, but yet so gross

The pain which was witnessed
From hell they desired it
The pain which was witnessed
From hell they derived it
The cuts with blood
Drip so slow
They seek no path
From where to flow

His fingers played, but
Yet know have silenced
His fingers were so graceful for the love of violence
For every key played, two cuts were made
For every melody heard, one measure was laid

The cruel incision and the unknown decision of the piano man
The sadness and wonder of the sound that silenced
The cruel intention that hindered his melody

His fingers have died, his mind a last
The painting of the piano man was painted at last
With what the man painted with was neither sold or made
It was the blood of him and a very sharp blade
 
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