Lost Joy grind-violence / Petřvald

I hear Hell's Bells ringing. The night stalker prowls in teh dark
Open window, a moment of clarity. HE Crawls inside, a smile so stark.
Knife clenched in his pocket. Pentagram shining bright.
Satanic beast on teh prowl. Blood, lust burning in his sight.
Kills the father, guts and meat. Rapes the mother, such a vile feat.
Stench of decay and putridity a smile on his face.
Power of teh night, power of the might. Twisted moments, knife gained with disgrace.