as the end grows near
i can smell your fear
the sound of death crawls in your ear

twards the end you will turn sevage
plant distruction and much demage
killing babys in their carriage

and when you're gone i'll rest at last
the stone is finally off my chest
you're nothing but revolting pests

now you're dead and i am glad
you are gone while i'm having fun
you are deceased by my stone-cold fist

I shaded your blood into the mud while sitting high up on my
cloud I AM YOUR GOD