I bring upon myself flagellation,
Trying to escape His eternal conflagration
The most exquisite torture of His servants
Little could we all know that he's naught but a serpent

I beg, your mercy
Or am I not worthy?
Whips, chains, and blades
May my blood downward ever-cascade

Brought upon me weapons of torture laden with rust
But who am I to label His methods unjust?
I relish being part of His purge
Burn me with fire, burn the scourge!

Make my evil the victim of his loving scorch
Yes, to the monster bring the torch
I long to be of His Crusade
So every night I sing His serenade

I bring upon myself flagellation
Do not mind my lamentations
For one day and one day soon
It is by him that my corpse will be hewn

He is right and true
And so I cherish the thought of the instruments flowing a newly crimson hue
Burn me in His Eternal Flame
My life before His is truly a shame

Chains, whips and knives, all instruments of taking lives
No part of my body its ravages shall survive
I hope for the touch of His loving conflagration
The thought of His damnation now brings me elation

Bring out the heretic's fork, I beg you please
Envelop my body with His fire, **** my disease
Make my evil the victim of his loving scorch
Yes, to the monster bring the torch

Brought upon me weapons of torture laden with rust
But who am I to label His methods unjust?
I relish being part of His purge,
Burn me with fire, burn the scourge!