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21

de The Lottery Winners

It was love. Mr. and Mrs. West.
What love?
What holy matrimony?
What love could breed such brutality?
Oh Mr. Fred West.
We love you the best.
Oh Mr. ice cream man.
Give the girls a little treat.
Lure them with your charm and bring them home to the wife you keep.
Your children love you.
Your knife so sweet.
25 ways to die on Cromwell Street.
This pair didn't play fair.
Abduction and Seduction.
How lovely was this monstrosity.
Oh Mr. Fred West.
We love you the best.
Oh Mr. daddy butcher. Working third shift at the slaughterhouse.
You became the job and brought it home to your lovely spouse.
First blood.
Fred's first love.
Rest in peace.
RIP sweetie. Under the kitchen floor. His little mangy whore.
It didn't stop them because they were bloodthirsty; they were love thirsty for more.
Slowly this morbid fascination turned murder into bliss.
So wifey West and her loving husband buried bodies and blew a kiss.
Oh zombie mommy with your pressed apron and your plastic smile.
You killed your own blood.
The innocence you defiled.
Oh Dosie Rosie what have you done?
I guess you and Daddy West were having too much fun.
Fred's in the cellar with a butcher's knife.
Hacking up the ladies with his beautiful wife.
1,2 life is through 3, 4, blood on the floor 5,6 pick up tricks 7,8 murder and rape. 9,10 nearing the end. 11, 12, let dissolve. 12 bodies laid to rest in the garden of their residence.

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