These fiends talk to me,
Quickly and demanding,
They allow me to see,
This place that I'm to be standing,
In this place I'm to be,
Pull on this trigger,
Break these sinners free,
They the caskets and I the digger,
They'll be where they are needed,
Burning in the pit of pain,
With each of these bullets these people are slain,
Do not sin... That they should have heeded,
So goodbye you no goers,
Young and the old,
Ill be joining you briefly,
The death sentence they uphold.
