[Words & music - Kirkpatrick]
[2 Samuel 24:14, Psalm 103:4]
Deliver to me the thieves, the murderers
And those with whom I find no fault
Just give me bodies - and the means to k**
It matters not who is guilty, who is innocent
It only matters where my fancy leads me
I live to please myself as you blood spills out
When you expire - there's a hundred more:
All who came to see - the curious, the morbid
Nero decides their fate - the arena becomes an a**orted
Spectacle played out en ma**e
You soul means nothing, your pain even less
As your loved one plead for my forgiveness
Not an ounce of mercy will I give out
Bind the ropes, set the horses afoot
Wailing crise, limbs torn out by the root
Entertaining drunken guests as the Christians are martyred
Crimes so petty - the result - drawn and quartered
The result - drawn and quartered
How can it be, as my own d**h is imminent
That you, oh Lord, still love me
A life in the pleasure of torture and murder
I can't understand it - I can't understand