Cut or be cut!
Kill or die!
Scream or choke!
Victory or death!
We’re the demon storm, the killing swarm.
We bring death and pain. You fight back in vain.
We pour through the gate, like a river of hate.
Tearing out your heart. Ripping you apart.

No one knows the men I’ve fought, or all the pain I’ve brought,
or all the death I’ve wrought, save for my blade.
For when I’m destroying lives, and fighting to survive,
I feel so alive. For I am the servant of,
I am the servant of pain.

Storm the castle halls, smashing down the walls.
Seize the holy priests, bring them to their knees.

“Oh mighty gods, save us from this madman.
We beg of thee, deliver us from evil.”
“If your gods existed, they would not allow this desecration.
Skin them alive, and leave them for the rats.”

Find the noble sons, slay them save but one.
Rape the daughters and Queen, then bring the King to me.

One way to release myself from all the pain I feel,
is strap you to the wheel and show it all to you.
And when death comes for me and pain is all I see,
she’s there to comfort me, my goddess Kali.