Death scythe raised against a nauseous sky
The wielder rots yet takes your fragile life
You will be ground up and you will be strewn
With more of your kind, you're sentenced to doom

Grinding cranium, turning all to pulp
Flesh and eyes and guts spilling, fodder for the skull
Bowels and brains, feeding the fiends
When you turn to slop the pain will ease

The carnage, the horror, agonized screams
Rivers of horror and plasmatic streams
Red gore and agony, faces in shreds
Into the grinder, you're better off dead

Grinding cranium, turning all to pulp
Flesh and eyes and guts spilling, fodder for the skull
Bowels and brains, feeding the fiends
When you turn to slop the pain will ease

The stench unreal, your innards reveal
And soon to be consumed
Turned to waste for ghouls to taste
Weltering in grume
There is no hell, this is where you dwell
You'll bleed allegiance to
The gnashing teeth, no chance to rot
You're all humanary stew