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[Intro]
Blood on the brass, piss on the floor,
He plays a sweet tune then he guts you for more.
Lips on the reed, veins split wide,
The sax screams louder than the bitch who died.

[Verse 1]
He lures you with a cocktail, smooth talk, cheap grin,
By midnight you’re screaming as the razor cuts in.
Choked with a clarinet, teeth shattered in the grind,
He keeps a necklace of eyeballs he carved out in time.

[Chorus]
Beware when you hear a saxophone at night,
It might be him, carving flesh in the pale moonlight.
Every note’s a murder, every solo’s a scream,
Your guts on the pavement like a fucked-up dream.

[Post-Chorus]
(Blare of horns, saw bass tearing)
He slits you in rhythm, skin flayed to the beat,
Stomps your fucking skull till the bones sound sweet.

Every note’s a murder
every solo’s a scream
like a fucked-up dream

[Verse 2]
His trumpet’s full of teeth, his piano’s drenched in blood,
He drowns a crying whore in a whiskey-fueled flood.
Carves names in the corpses with a sharpened trombone slide,
Fingers broken, jaws snapped, nowhere left to hide.

[Chorus]
Beware when you hear a saxophone at night,
It might be him, stabbing throats in the pale moonlight.
Every riff’s a killing, every scream a refrain,
Another faceless body rotting in the rain.

[Post-Chorus]
(Industrial bass slams, jazz horns warped)
He paints with intestines, brains on the wall,
Jazz by day—by night, a blood-soaked brawl.

Every note’s a murder
every solo’s a scream
like a fucked-up dream

[Verse 3]
Spotlight hits the stage, but the curtains drip red,
The audience cheers while their friends drop dead.
He guts with a bow, strangles slow with guitar wire,
Snaps spines on the snare drum, sets the corpses on fire.

[Chorus]
Beware when you hear a saxophone at night,
It might be him, splitting skulls in the pale moonlight.
When the horn starts crying, you won’t survive the song,
You’ll bleed to the rhythm, it won’t be long.

[Post-Chorus]
(Distorted brass shriek, screams layered in)
His solos are massacres, his symphonies kill,
Every note is a butcher’s knife, sharpened for the thrill.

Every note’s a murder
every solo’s a scream
like a fucked-up dream

[Outro]
The city wakes to sirens, but the killer plays on,
Another slit throat, another life gone.
By day he’s a legend, applause, champagne,
But at night, the sax moans—and the streets drown in pain.

The Saxophone Killer

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