Shawn Machete
by Shawn Machete
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 5-track album in your choice of MP3 320, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now name your price
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Crematorium
02:54
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Murderaholic
03:07
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My Machete
03:50
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Buried Alive
03:53
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credits
released 20 June 2011
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Shawn Machete at Dog Hill Studios, Connecticut. vulgarrity@gmail.com.
Recorded, mixed and mastered by Shawn Machete at Dog Hill Studios, Connecticut. vulgarrity@gmail.com.
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Shawn Machete is a side project by Shawn Garrity from VulGarrity.
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- Track Name: Crematorium
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Heat from the furnace burning up
In the Crematorium my time is up
I’m next in line and my coffin is closed
I’m still alive but nobody knows, I feel
Heat from the furnace burning up
In the Crematorium my time is up
I’m next in line and it won’t be long before the
Flames rise up and my body is gone
I was feeling down, depressed and kinda glum
My buddy said “It’s time for you to go out and have some fun, man”
So he made a phone call and set me up on a date
A blind date, that was my first mistake
We went to the movies, ended up at her place
She offered me some wine with an evil smile on her face
Thought nothing of it and I drank the wine down
Next thing I know I was lying on the ground
I don’t remember much but I know that she was laughing
Then she called the cops with some bullshit story about what happened (oh my God)
The paramedic couldn’t feel a heartbeat, so they put a tag on one of my feet
I spent days in the hospital basement
While other dead bodies came and went
Finally they opened up my drawer and took me out
Unzipped the body bag, I tried so hard to shout
I couldn’t open up my mouth, couldn’t even move my eyes
I’m screaming in my head, and these fuckers don’t realize (I’m not dead)
They zipped the bag up and took me for a ride
Reached our destination and they wheeled my coffin inside
I smelled burning and I knew I wasn’t gonna survive, being cooked alive
I know it’s not a dream, my stomach’s turning from the smell
And that fire’s gotta be real because it hurts like hell
The flames are getting higher as they close the furnace door
Now I can’t feel my body anymore - Track Name: Murderaholic
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Picture this scenario inside of your brain
And try your best not to let it drive you insane
Because the test is whether you can handle all the pain
That comes along with the piece of knowledge you’re about to gain
I had a friend name Ray you know we used to be tight
Went to the club and kicked it every Saturday night
I always knew that something about him just wasn’t right
But I didn’t think much of it and went on with my life
Then one day I heard a story that made my face turn yellow
The cops dragged seven bodies out of his cellar
They hauled him off to jail, I never saw him again
But it still makes me sick to think we used to be friends
If you hear a chainsaw buzzing late at night
It’s probably because your neighbor’s doing something sick
Your living next door to a murderaholic
If you hear screaming out in pain
It’s because he’s found his latest victim and you’re next on the list
Living next door to a murderaholic
Married to a man you thought was righteous and good
Knew him better than even his own mother could
Went to church on Sunday it was well understood
He provided for his family like a good husband should
Then the neighbors start complaining about a stench in the air
They say it’s coming from your house and you get nervous and scared
Ask you husband what it is, he brings you downstairs
Where you witness something far beyond your worst nightmare
Picture this scenario inside of your brain
And try your best not to let it drive you insane
I just don’t know if you can handle all the pain
That comes along with the piece of knowledge you’re about to gain
What if I told you that lunatic husband was you?
And your best friend Ray lives inside your head too
But you do in fact have neighbors complaining
About the air pollution coming from the basement
Looks like you’ve been living in a fantasy land
Unaware of all the killing done by your two hands
Thanks to all the other personalities living in your head
All of your house guests are dead - Track Name: My Machete
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This is a story of death, the death of a depraved lunatic
Who met his demise at the end of my machete
Any time I’ve got a lot on my mind
I like to walk through the woods to help me unwind
Which brings me to the story of a date in time
When I came across a problem of the cannibal kind
I couldn’t sleep so I went outdoors
Just as the first rays of sunlight hit the forest floor
I reached a place I’d never been before
Suddenly I didn’t feel safe anymore
There was a stillness in this clearing I found
It was like the world stopped and nothing made a sound
I got the chills as I looked around
That’s when I saw a half-eaten corpse on the ground
There’s a madman breathing down the back of my neck
This motherfucker’s crazy if he thinks he’s gonna eat me for breakfast
Because you know I won’t let him, instead I’m gonna behead him
There’s a madman breathing down the back of my neck
This cannibal picked the wrong victim, he’s got another thing coming
If he thinks I’m not ready, he’s no match for my machete
No match for my machete
I looked up, what did I see?
A crazy fucking cannibal staring back at me
Built like a wrecking ball, tall as a tree
He cracked an evil-ass smile showing blood-stained teeth
I didn’t panic, just turned my back
And sure enough he ran up behind me to attack
I turned around again and my machete made contact, smack
His body landed flat on its back
His head rolled about six feet away
I wiped the blood off my weapon and called it a day
So listen up kids, today’s lesson is
Don’t ever live in the five-mile radius of a prison with questionable security and a history of jailbreaks involving death row inmates, especially those whose crimes involved cannibalism, or else you might find yourself in this situation - Track Name: It Ain't Easy Pimpin' In Hell
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Deep down below past the gates of Hell
Where the dead folk roam and the demons dwell
There’s a street corner in a realm of its own
Where all the dead pimps and hoes call home
No rest for the wicked, it never stops
It’s always 2am on every clock
And every single hoe’s out walking the street
They all got blisters on their feet
But it ain’t no better for the pimps down here
We hustle non-stop and don’t get anywhere
Cuz see there ain’t no money in Hell, so we can’t collect it
And we get no respect
If my pimp hand’s strong, no one gives a shit
Cuz all the hoes slap back, some scratch and spit
It’s a true story and I know it well
It Ain’t Easy Pimpin’ in Hell
(Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy)
Where the dead folk roam and the demons dwell
Much worse than a prison cell
It Ain’t Easy
Suckers walk by and eye the merchandise with a purpose
But nothing like it was on the surface
They looked like average guys back home
But down here they’ve got horns sticking out of their domes
The demons pick the finest girls and drive away in their Mercedes
Like a bat out of Hades
All the dead johns don’t have it so easy
They suffer from a problem that will make you queasy
They have a hard time getting erections or pissing
Cuz part of their anatomy is missing
That goes for all the pimps down here as well
This scene is really bringing me down
There’s always some scared hoe running around screaming
“Demons demons everywhere, I can’t take it anymore, I’m so scared”
Should’ve thought of that when you were walking the street
Selling yourself to try and make ends meet
Thls lesson I’m forever forced to tell - Track Name: Buried Alive
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Driving all night and all day through the deep deep south
I had an empty gas gauge and a dryness in my mouth
I pulled to the side and parked my ride at the truck stop I found
I pumped some gas, took some brews, still there was no one around
Got back in my ride and as I pulled away my tire went flat
I stopped and got out and as I bent down to take a look I felt someone tap on my back
He was in inbred demon with a bulletproof vest
Shotgun on his back, sheriff badge on his chest
Standing 7 feet tall and ugly as sin
Had a face that made the toxic avenger look like Paris Hilton
I pumped one in his chest and his face turned red
He grabbed his billy club and went to town on my head
He drove me to the graveyard, grabbed a shovel out the trunk and then
He dug a hole and threw me in
So this is what it’s like being buried alive
Staring up at the moon through the dirt in my eyes
The earth feels cold as my body shakes
I pray to God that heaven my sould will take
So this is what it’s like being buried alive
Staring up at the moon through the dirt in my eyes
The earth piles higher, the sky disappears
I wonder how the Hell I got here
Lying 6 feet underground when I finally awoke
Dirt on my face and when I opened up my mouth I almost choked
But I kept my cool and maintained, couldn’t believe I was still alive
Then the moment I was waiting for finally arrived
He threw the shovel down and left me alone
I busted free and took a peek around the side of my gravestone
There he sat with a jar of moonshine
I picked the shovel up and tapped on his shoulder from behind
He turned around, but before he could pull the trigger
His head became acquainted with his grave digger
I threw him in the hole he dug and covered him up
Took his keys from my pocket and I started his truck
But before I could leave I felt the need to make a note
Took a chisel to his gravestone and here’s what I wrote
