Murderous Holiday

MURDEROUS HOLIDAY By Roy Merritt The havocs came out of the fog with faces wretched and forlorn Borne them up from hell Borne them upon the storm A vacation from the nether world Satan has granted these few To alight upon the living To do the things they knew To do the things they knew To do the things they've done To smite the good and bad In revelatory fun And one can hear the terror Where these monsters feet have tread Leaving blood where they walk And many prone and dead And when their victims wail and bade The reason why Why this compulsion they possess Why must it be they die The havocs will roar with laughter A horrid sound it be And declare to these inquiries It merely be destiny It was written upon tablets From Ages ill defined Deemed before the minutes Even merged themselves with time And we be just the servants Of Satan and God as well They be one in the same Ruling in heaven and hell We obey their every whim We act on what they say And they be the ones who grant us This murderous holiday This bloody holiday