I am, what they call, the spirit of loathing.
I collect souls from the great pit of hatred.
Hatred walks in and gives me a soul or two.
I treat them as if they were sacred.
And the sacrifice is large,
Since you commit your-self to me,
And there is no discharge,
Only tormenting misery.
I toss them around here and there.
And they can't seem to learn,
That I really couldn't care,
If they obey me or not.
As long as they are with me,
And they're here to stay,
I'll never be lonely,
Or suffer misery.