Thrashes, tearing the swoon
Bashing, of appendages, scream
Gashes, of the punishing tools
They scream and cry, they beg for mercy
The still expression of the burlaped mask
Their flayed skin flies, pre-demise
This is a dream, what more can I ask
My pleasure comes
From the pain in their eyes
The Punishment dealt
Onto another wicked task
My pleasure comes
From the pain in their eyes
The Punishment dealt
Onto another wicked
This Inquisitional torture
The high you look for on this - lift
To force their bodies to - rupture
Its Inquisitional Torture
The violence is - intoxicating
Dealing pain through - torture
My Wretched hands are tainted
By my own decisions
To fulfill their need to believe in their
God