Further compulsion has made it this long
I know in my heart that killing is wrong
Alas my disease, my thirst I cannot sate

Father above, I wish to be repentant of the crimes before me
Your servant now a guilty conversion, although I know, in hell I'll be

I accept the fate that I have made
Alone and bitter
Forced to hate

My desire for flesh is unbridled
Prostrate before you
I beg for forgiveness

In hell I'll be