Pity for the pious

The pious pour their pity pure I can sell a little cure The burning flesh The sweetest smell I kiss the angel Burnt in hell I watch your fallen boring fate As you sweat and you masturbate I'm touching you but cannot feel But one small poke and you will squeal Constantly commit consume Creep on to your closing tomb No whiskey welcome at your door Not a light for your whore Not a word that I can hear The stench of shit tells me you're near Your god is gaping Your god is waiting Your terror rises To no surprises Mirror mirror on the wall Doberman's are in the hall Mirror mirror on the wall Take off that blindfold face them all Mirror mirror on the wall Dope bonanza in the mall Mirror mirror on the wall Hold on tight i'll fuck you all