They are busy pulling down their own home On their own head For they are free. They have been so too long And now they feel bored of their freedom Fathered by an impotent wretch On a barren whore.
A malignant growth spreads apace With an impassive face One by one it kills all the cells Both living and dead When this gangrenous race Has rotten to its very core What will that eunuch time hold For the survivors in store?
