Skin them alive
And flay their bones.
Pickle them in jars of roach.
Burn their eyes out
And hack their  feet.
Send them begging for mercy.
A river of blood should flow,
As the blood sin is extracted.
The police, jury, executioner
Stand cold as stone,
Not a tear, not a flinch,
For the damned's service
Finally the debt of wicked paid.
In the gardens of Edom
Surrounded by hell on earth.