Razorblades and spinning saws, a monument to shred
The only way you're getting out, is if you're f**ing dead
Dismemberment's our pleasure, we're not very discrete
The only thing we deal, are slabs of human meat
Welcome to the shredmill, run for your lives
We've got thousands of chainsaws, hooks, and butcher knives
But gettin' cut up's not the only way to go
You might slip in some blood and bust open your skull
What drives this vast expansiveness, of blood and filth and gore?
A blood-soaked d**h emporium, armed from door to door
His name is Doctor Chainsaw, Shredman, Hubert P
He went to Shredford U. A PHD in butchery
The screams of the dead ring out through the night
They cower in fear at our menacing sight
We laugh and we say that it's all in fun
Then slash out their legs when they try to run
They're lured with tales of a funhouse with games
That plays hipster music and has hipster dames
Of course thats all bullsh** and pretty insane
They're just chopped up as food for our zombie brigade
Now comes a tale of a shredmaster duel
A battle of shred kings to see who would rule
Dr. Chainsaw challenged Yngwie Malmsteen
He'd heard he was so good, he'd shred in his sleep
Yngwie pulled out his "axe", he posed like a creep
He jerked off the fretboard and played wa*ky sweeps
Chainsaw laughed hard, he'd made a mistake
So he gutted the f**er and removed his face