To the Rack With Them - The Gates of Slumber

Upon your Judas cradle

Ropes made from your skin

Burning scent of incense

The aroma of your flesh

Burning cauldron of tar

You’re a fancy self made god

Completely bound and tied

With a mouth full of shit

To the rack with them

Broken bones pulled out joints

Eyes gouged with hot irons

Raped by holy man

Agonized pain for hours

Burning cauldron of tar

You’re a fancy self made god

Open from gut to neck

Rats feast from within

To the rack with them

To the rack with them