Deliver to me the thieves, the murderers And those with whom I find no fault Just give me bodies - and the means to kill It matters not who is guilty, who is innocent It only matters where my fancy leads me I live to please myself as your blood spills out When you expire - there's a hundred more... All who came to see - the curious, the morbid Nero decides their fate - the arena becomes an assorted Spectacle played out en masse Your soul means nothing, your pain even less As your loved ones plead for my forgiveness Not an ounce of mercy will I give out Bind the ropes, set the horses afoot Wailing cries, limbs torn out by the root Entertaining drunken guests as the Christians are martyred Crimes so petty - the result - drawn and quartered The result - drawn and quartered How can it be, as my own death is imminent That You, oh Lord, still love me A life lived in the pleasure of torture and murder I can't understand it - I can't understand