This is the unearthing of a morbid pestilence
For the wrath of my hand strikes the hour of abhorrence
I, father and captor of genocide, engulfed in rage
Yearning for the taste of carnage, a taste of thy youth's blood
False images who have spoke of malcontent of detestation atone for thy sins with a grizzly demise

For a wicked fate lay wait to greet thy spawns
Resting upon thine holy mountains
I, Elisha, the wisest within the hierarchy of holy prophets

Gifted is the hand that brings death under oath of no penalty from the heavens above

The successor of carnage and mutilation
May it cleanse the waters of Jericho
Purge the life
Damn their souls
Wretched swine
A writhing abomination of flesh, bone, and life

The intrusive dreams of bloodthirst
Holy crusades
Each open for the decimation
The visions of trickling blood
I shall bore the chest through tools of tooth, nails, and pelted flesh
Two bears shredding you to death
Commencing the purification
The created images of the most holy indoctrination
Misguided youth
Led astray from the eternal rules of my Ten Commandments
Surely not devout, I see fit my deadly beasts
They shall feast
Doomed against their will
Enduring the end of mortality

Locked in a limbo of pragmatic consequence
A bald man's vision
So says I, the father of genocide
All sins shall be repaid

Go up, you bald head
Go up, you bald head
You fucking worthless prophet