Voice From The Head

The executioner's song
The whistle of death
A silver gleam falls
An axe-severed head
The spray of red
A gurgle of blood
Still blinking eyes
The smile behind the hood
The roar of the crowd
The still staring eyes
Shock of the sound
Of the voice from the head
Flight of the frantic
Feet pounding away
A head floats above them
Blood sprinkles on its prey

She kills with no remorse
Her mind perpetually cracks
She has killed and will again
God’s mercy is an axe

The governor stares in horror
As blood spills into his eyes
His skin begins to crumble
Begs of heaven's rights
Dead eyes roll in sockets
Of not one head but two
In a sickening ripped asunder
Another parts anew
And as it falls toward the ground
Smiles not for it is slew

She kills with no remorse
Her mind perpetually cracks
She has killed and will again
God’s mercy is an axe