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