Now that I have my trophy of your anatomy 
Your stiff can be excised aberrantly.

Convulsions transpire you're seeping suppuration 
Our intamacy is arcane to culture 
These ethics I contain in my arsenal of pleasure 
Failed to be appreciated.

Your proposition isn't good enough 
In due time I'll dictate your vile form 
Into my incapable hands 
And claim you for my own.

You're born into these hands again 
[Send the slut back to hell ]x4
Another whore to seek to fondle and misuse 
Back to the grave to exhume again.