Camelot
I will rip you open with my own bare hands
call death to the room and carry out my plans
carnage and destruction will erupt
a tower for Satan I will construct
i'll take my flesh and melt it off
your dear swet death will be neither swift nor soft
your answer now will show no mercy
to the world and the court I shall not curtsey
strip to your waist and kneel before me
i've ripped your eyes out you cannot see
let the drawing and quartering begin
let us hope to be delivered in sin
bathe in the blood of these masses
the fields have turned, red grasses
block the sun from giving common light
you cannot sin if you've no sight
let us fight our battle tonight
your death will make everything all right
then I may be able to live once more
with a vivid memory of your swet gore
with a memory of your head, absent the body
it will make me seem so much more godly
thank you for my hate and mistrust
my memory lives on and yours bites the dust
carnage and destruction will erupt
a tower for Satan I will construct
I will rip you open with my own two hands
call death to the room and carry out my plans
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