At the edge of thy worst nightmares
Where thy death is sacred treasure
Feel - thy pain becomes eternal
And the suffering’s commencing
Thou art cattle made for breeding
Bitch is hungry, whore is waiting
Thy screams shall feed our fading
Just because we can do this, filth!
Thou may pray and call for gods now
I shall promise – no one hears thee
In thy tiny life of vermin
Commoragh is where thou endest.
So sweet screams are when thou diest
To be brought and kept forever
For my pleasure thou shalt suffer
From thy pain I shall now flourish.
At the edge of thy worst nightmares
Where thy death is sacred treasure
Feel - thy pain becomes eternal
And the suffering’s commencing
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