Drunkards and thieves, they mean nothing to me
All of their lives are for me, to cease
Worthless creations, walking abominations
Shits of human race, waste of air and space

When the eyes turn inwards, you've run out of luck
When the eyes turn inwards, you're the one that's fucked
When the eyes turn inwards, you better be prepared
When the eyes turn inwards, no one will be spared

Stench of soiled clothes, stench of rotten souls
Ridden with disease, lice worms, and fleas
They say it's not their fault, how they turned out to be
Well maybe I don't care, ‘cause I hate to hear them breathe

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