Butcher Pete

In EMM, Promo by El Mariachi Muerte

Hey everybody, did the news get around
About a guy named Butcher Pete
Pete just flew into this town
And he’s choppin’ up all the women’s meat

 

He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He just hacks, wacks, choppin’ that meat

Man kills for many reasons. Out of anger or jealousy, for sport or money. Some kill for food. But rarely does one kill simply because they see beauty in the death they cause.

The artistry of death. The poetry of a ballad written as one’s death song. The splatter of crimson blood as it hits the canvas.

Few understand the beauty of death like Butcher Pete did.

Ol’ Pete’s got a long sharp knife
He starts choppin’ and doesn’t know when to stop
All you fellows gotta watch your wives
‘Cause Pete don’t care whose meat he chops

It began as just a taste, but once his knife spilled blood for the first time, it awakened in him a lust like no other. Butcher Pete became an artist in his own right, lustfully searching for new and interesting ways to lead his human canvases into the beautiful embrace of death.

Once he had found his artform, he could not stop. Because art stops for nothing, and neither does death. It is a beautiful pairing, the partnership of art and death.

But humanity is weak and did not grasp the concept of Butcher Pete’s artistry. They pursued, convicted and ensured he met a fate less beautiful than that of his victims.

No blood, no crimson paint on his canvas. Just a hangman’s noose.

They tried to put Pete in jail
Yes, he finally met his fate
I don’t see how he stays alive
Meat’s gonna be the death of Ol’ Pete, yeah.

 

He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He just hacks, wacks, choppin’ that meat

I understand you, Jasper Redgrave, as I did Butcher Pete.

I see beauty in your artistry. The human canvas that you work with displaying beauty that is the fine tipped balance between life and death.

With one mere flick of the knife blade, you control that balance. You spill blood and it paints your masterpiece. Just as the strings of my guitar reflect the beauty of death, so too does your canvas.

But Arcadia does not understand your beauty, amigo. Humanity fails to grasp the artistry of death and you find yourself pursued by those that wish to lock you up. Jackson Cade has your scent, and like the APD’s best dogs, he will keep sniffing until he finds what he’s looking for.

Just like Butcher Pete, your artistry will only ever end in failure. A beautiful career cut short by those that don’t understand your beauty.

For the world can never see things through our eyes.

He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He just hacks, wacks, choppin’ that meat

My song calls out to you, amigo. From one artist to another.

Enjoy your days staining your canvases with blood.

For before long, they will come to an abrupt end. Then, death will welcome you into its beautiful embrace.