The pious pour their pity pure
I can sell a little cure
The burning flesh

The sweetest smell
I kiss the angel
Burnt in hell

I watch your fallen boring fate
As you sweat and you !@(#
I'm touching you but cannot feel

But one small poke and you will squeal

Constantly commit consume

Creep on to your closing tomb

No whiskey welcome at your door

Not a light for your !@^%
Not a word that I can hear
The stench of %#@! tells me you're near


Your god is gaping
Your god is waiting

Your terror rises
To no surprises


Mirror mirror on the wall
Doberman's are in the hall
Mirror mirror on the wall

Take off that blindfold face them all
Mirror mirror on the wall
Dope bonanza in the mall

Mirror mirror on the wall
Hold on tight i'll $#&@ you all