Pity For The Pious

(album: WWIII - 2003)

The pious pour their pity pure
I can sell a little cure
The burning flesh
The sweetest smell
I kiss the angel
Burnt in hell
I watch your fallen, boring fate
As you sweat, and you masturbate
I'm touching you but cannot feel
But one small poke, and you will squeal

Constantly commit, consume
Creep on to your closing tomb

No whiskey welcome at your door
Not a light for your whore
Not a word that I can hear
The stench of shit tells me you're near

Constantly commit, consume
Creep on to your closing tomb
Your god is gaping
Your god is waiting
Your terror rises
To no surprises
Your god is gaping
Your god is waiting
Your terror rises
To no surprises

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Dobermans are in the hall
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Take off that blindfold, face them all
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Dobermans are in the mall
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Hold on tight, I'll fuck you all

Constantly commit, consume
Creep on to your closing tomb
Your god is gaping
(My god is gaping)
Your god is waiting
Your terror rises
(My god is gaping)
To no surprises
Your god is gaping
(My god is gaping)
Your god is waiting
Your terror rises
(My god is gaping)
To no surprises

Mirror, mirror on the wall
(My god is gaping)
Your god is waiting
Dobermans are in the hall
Your terror rises
Mirror, mirror on the wall
(My god is gaping)
To no surprises
Take off that blindfold, face them all
Your god is gaping
Mirror, mirror on the wall
(My god is gaping)
Your god is waiting
Dobermans are in the mall
Your terror rises
Mirror, mirror on the wall
(My god is gaping)
To no surprises
Hold on tight, I'll fuck you all