Cuntcrusher

The gears are set into place;
The finals stages of purification are nudged into motion
By our pious Pope
The prevention of the second coming of Christ
Is now drawing closer to completion.

Dissolution of component forces
Act together as one a single congregation
Tied together with one purpose in mind
The prevention of Christ’s birth
Dead are collected and piled
To feed the flames of a furnace fire
The day lit sky is now blackened by the infant ashes
As they rise they bring us darkness
Turning day to night
With the remnants of the children burning, we begin the last stage
Surviving females are loaded onto transports and then shipped to our parishes
Where they’re tagged, then stripped of their clothing
Assigned numbers and then taken to
Eugenic controlled concentration camps
This is where they spend the rest of their pathetic lives
One by one the worms dry out
In the sun at the mercy of their new master.

Their existence exhausts itself without
The ability to procreate
Seared onto their heads and their hands
Is the mark of The Beast
This holy number, sacred in its symbolism
Now marks the doom of fertility
By the order of the Pope
We condemn them to be neutered
With a machine devised to sterilize
With a hundred tons of force, its name is The Cuntcrusher.

Hooks pierce through their feet
Then suspends them upside down
To be fed into the side where they are conveyed to a press of blades
With their legs pried open, their cunts align
At the flick of a switch
They are sterilized.