Scrubbing skin, cleanse this cursed flesh
Oh that vile stench of sin seems to seep from within
I still smell his burning fat, his bowels turned
Oh that rank smell of sin seems to stick to my skin
Was his death unjust? Well I dare hope not
His sentence may falter, but the end that he got
Neatly executed with impeccable skill
Just like I'd wish my end when it is fulfilled
I pray it must draw near
This burden turned to much to bear
I wish I could greet my long trusted friend
My only true companion to and through the end
Scrubbing skin, cleanse this bloodied flesh
Oh that vile stench of sin emanates from within
I still feel those woeful stares, their scent of fear
And that rank smell of sin seems to stick to my skin
Were their deaths unjust? Well I would bet not
Such nasty, demeanours account for a lot
So we sent them off to the best of our wills
Still that accursed room echoes with their screams so thrill
Is this endless delirious strain, sore pores and b***** chains
All I shall attain, has it been to no avail?
This raucous delirious strain returns again and again
The ghosts of the slain, from my bonded domain
I pray it must draw near, my burden grievous
I'd greet my trusted friend
Intent companion loyal through grace and grief parade and gutter
My aide through life and lot I beg you to collect me
Oh that vile stench of sin seems to seep from within
I still smell his burning fat, his bowels turned
Oh that rank smell of sin seems to stick to my skin
Was his death unjust? Well I dare hope not
His sentence may falter, but the end that he got
Neatly executed with impeccable skill
Just like I'd wish my end when it is fulfilled
I pray it must draw near
This burden turned to much to bear
I wish I could greet my long trusted friend
My only true companion to and through the end
Scrubbing skin, cleanse this bloodied flesh
Oh that vile stench of sin emanates from within
I still feel those woeful stares, their scent of fear
And that rank smell of sin seems to stick to my skin
Were their deaths unjust? Well I would bet not
Such nasty, demeanours account for a lot
So we sent them off to the best of our wills
Still that accursed room echoes with their screams so thrill
Is this endless delirious strain, sore pores and b***** chains
All I shall attain, has it been to no avail?
This raucous delirious strain returns again and again
The ghosts of the slain, from my bonded domain
I pray it must draw near, my burden grievous
I'd greet my trusted friend
Intent companion loyal through grace and grief parade and gutter
My aide through life and lot I beg you to collect me