Kill Kill Kill Bathory

Industrialised abortions
The organs lined up on the shelves
Coloured pills guaranteed to keep you at peace
With your pitiful fucking selves

So full of nothing behind the closed doors
Of your very own misery
You're getting your share of weird fucking pleasure
Watching humiliation TV

You're all fucking nothing but bricks on a board
Pawns in a game moved and owned by faceless high lords
Useful a cog in the moneymachine
Disposable sellable obedient slaves to extort industry

That's why you Kill
Why you want to Kill
Why you should Kill
And so you Kill

Beauty pageants for the five year old
Pay-per-view Christ for your souls
The lottery of mammon will provide for you
When you are back broken useless and old

But once you are dead and they'll showed
You into the forgiving flames
They'll refer to you only by a social security number
And not your name