[Spark Master Tape]
Fat detective stood by the couch
With the smoke from his stogie
And his bushy eyebrow

First at the scene of the crime
Never seen a scene with a more violent design
There was a
Old tenement block
Long abandoned and lost
Not a lock that's been shredded by cops
Crime high, murder happens a lot
Still can't believe what he just stumbled across

All dark and the scent barely permeable
Small 'partment in a state that's terrible
White carpet with stains irreparable
Blood spattered with brains
Spread across the living room floor and sink
With a row o' bodies in a line that stink
He counted all the bodies that he could, that's 10
Stomach started churning as he walked further in

The blood of the souls
Blood on his shoes with all steps he chose
He moves through the puddles, the body count grows
Two bedrooms, a bathroom
And one door that's closed
All of they stomachs exposed
Organs exploding as if filled to blow
The stench is so strong he can taste with his nose
But it all feels so wrong that there's something he knows
Now it's time to do
Open the last door, walk on through
So he walks up to it
Stares like there's something that draws him to it
One hand on the handle, one hand on the roof
Door felt heavy so he pushed right through
With a crack it swung open and smashed
A kids toy of a pony, end up broken in half
He stood back

But the world looked familiar, uhh
It was before the divorce, an alcoholic problem started happenin' Before
It’s like a different half of his mind just opened the door
And he recognised the baby's cradle turned on the floor
Heart started jumping in his mouth some more
He took a few steps and approached the wall
Put his hand under the side and saw the hand of his son with a note written in blood that said: