|
Stench of rot and filth prevails. You fight against the |
|
iron chains to no avail. Strung you up in my of torture |
|
and sin. Naked and sweating, let the beatings begin! Warm |
|
up the tongs in the fireplace. Press the searing metal |
|
against your innocent face. Break out the whip, put you |
|
to the test. Pour molten hot oil on your quivering |
|
breast... My body count continues, you're just another |
|
bitch. When I'm finished I'll dump you in a ditch. Strap |
|
your welted body to my wooden rack. If you're lucky |
|
you'll die of a heart attack. The horrible bed of nails |
|
could be too much for you. But if you don't like it, I've |
|
got a mask of spikes for you! Vice grips crush your |
|
breasts in a screaming fit. I'll nail your fingers to the |
|
table, make you eat your own shit! And when I'm through |
|
you'll be begging for more. And I'll rape broken body in |
|
my bloody pit of horror!!! |