Satan, why is everyone so scared of him?
Lets knock on his door with a thousand cherubim,
And if it’s not enough come back with a garrison,
Of the highest class of angels, some six winged seraphim.

When the battle is raging on,
The demons will start to groan,
When their King is stripped from his throne,
And beat until the white meat is shown,
So we can see his flesh and bones.

Only then we will celebrate our victory,
When the enemy is history.
You see, Violence is the key,
The Devil’s death is meant to be.
It won’t mean spit to me,
The pain and all it brings,
To a being less than me.

I guess this means,
If the torture was switched to me.
Then it won’t mean spit to thee,
A being more than me.

While he’s so busy deploring me,
Instead of looking for more to see
There’s much more to me,
Than a sinning human being.

But since the God I love,
Promised me a place above
My shoulders I have to shrug,
**** the other thugs,
Give ‘em war, not love.