Venus of the drains,
Receiver of their prayers and offerings.
Tires of the gifts washed down the streets,
From the city of the rats.
A goddess, prisoner of the rats,
Down in the belly of Cloaca Maxima.
Like the bud of a tossed away cigarette,
They’ve opened a forest fire.
This is how it ends,
Drowned in their own tithes and offerings.
The prisoner of Cloaca Maxima,
Is sending every prayer back to its sender.
Corruption, death and disease,
All flows down in the city of the rats.
When you try to call pest control,
Your blood will fill up the streets,
In the city of the rats.
You are fools, trying to build the ark when the flood has already come.
You never learned how to swim, all you vermin are going to drown.
You are up to your neck,
In your own **** and ****.
Out of all the ways to go,
This had to be it!
You thought you were rid of us,
When you pulled the handle down.
All little things add up over time,
We’re coming back up to drown,
The city of the rats!
Venus rises out of Cloaca Maxima.
Rising out of every sewer.
She’s come to deliver,
Every prayer back to its sender.
Venus pull the handle down,
Flush all this **** away.
The only way to get rid of ****,
Is to flush it all away.
We are coming out of every faucet,
Pipe, plughole, shower-head and toilet!
Swimming in a flooded landscape,
Eyes, nose and mouth just above it.
We’re rising up,
Venus’ rising up,
****’s rising up.
Out of all the ways to go this had to be it,
Drowned in your own **** and ****!
