No rest for the weak

Don't you wish your God was just like me
condemning souls to purgatory
over again in eternity

Black are their tongues
their souls are rotten
killing us slowly
but never forgotten

Mankind is hatred
with smiles full of bleach
heart-worm diseases
no rest for the weak

Slowly they're creeping
up under your skin
polluting your veins
producing your sins

Black are their tongues
their souls are rotten
killing us slowly
but never forgotten


© Malady, June 2009.