Jars

The Black Dahlia MurderThe Black Dahli… 

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The Black Dahlia Murder

The Black Dahlia Murder is an American metal band from Waterford, Michigan, formed in 2000. Their name is derived from the 1947 unsolved murder of Elizabeth Short, often referred to as Black Dahlia. The band comprises vocalist Trevor Strnad, guitarists Brian Eschbach and Ryan Knight, bassist Max Lavelle and drummer Shannon Lucas. Out of their five studio albums, the latest four of them charted on the US Billboard 200, with 2009's Deflorate peaking at No. 43 and their latest album Ritual reaching No. 31. more »

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My jars, wonderful jars, each labeled and stowed
Beneath the cellar floor where not a soul would ever know
Preserved my sustenance to last the entire winter long
These jars, my precious meat brined and pickled cuts of human beef
Row after row, a pantry full of enemies
Maintained and organized, a vast collection dear to me
Each one a toy of mine I revisit them when I should eat
With zeal I recollect that very moment of their defeat
Salting and curing every piece for my flesh feast
(In jars) vessels immaculate, cylindrical and clean (their heads in jars)
The lightless winter months have gone straight to my brain, know what I mean?
Here in my solitude, fed by my stock of dead (preserved in jars)
Their facial features warp, the laughter never ends My foe, I win
My jars innumerable, incalculable my pride
Trophies of my love to hunt taken to such egregious heights
Each one encapsulates a visage of that fateful night of those 
who have met their end by my ever still and sharpened skinning knife
Brown sugared long pig, what a treat
Obscenely orgasmic to eat
For this scrumptious family recipe, I've saved you a seat
(In jars) Vessels immaculate, cylindrical, and clean (their heads in jars)
The lightless winter months have gone straight to my brain, know what I mean?
Here in my solitude, fed by my stock of dead, (preserved in jars)
Their facial features warp, defiled unto no end Again I win
Row after row, a pantry full of enemies,
Maintained and organized, a vast collection dear to me
8-17-05, this collegiate girl did kick and fight
The next sow bled September 9th, plucked from her tracks, out like the tide
(In jars) vessels immaculate, cylindrical, and clean (their heads in jars)
The lightless winter months have gone straight to my brain, know what I mean?
Here in my solitude, fed by my stock of dead (preserved in jars)
Their facial features warp, defiled unto no end Again I win

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