"Designation of the Murderer - Hopefully"

You're a Fucking Murderer; you do things that are unheard
of and that are for the mentally-sick and disturbed reserved...

things that most of us don't speak of; living-out of your
devious imaginations, and internal, devilish depraved urges

The actions that you take into your hands and commit on
an whim, we wouldn't even contemplate doing

  Now, the bloods on your hands because you went as far
to carry-out your conceived and premeditated vile plans

  You looked at the man/woman/child/crowd and exacted
your ritual, whether first-time or now habitual; first-offender
or mass-murderer, to me it makes no difference - you went
to far and stepped-into shoes not made for you

Into your hands, you took the liberty; you went
ahead and became an Fucking Deity, an Death angel -
this ain't Mythology, you don't get to be, don't have the
right to choose, unto you its not been given the role of
Valkyrie or even the Fates

Now a Marks been put on your head; you're now
walking in death, time borrowed; any breath could
be your last - when it looks you in the eyes don't
be surprised as it claims your soul with a wicked
and satisfied, maniacal laugh...

Bastard, I hope you put-up a fight so that it shreds
you into pieces...

Because -

  Now, the blood of Innocents is on your hands as
you went to far and carried-out your conceived and
premeditated vile plans

  You looked at the man/woman/child/crowd and
exacted your ritual, whether first-time or now habitual;
first-offender or mass-murderer, to me it makes no
difference - you went to far and stepped-into shoes not
made for you

Cock-sucker payments due; the Reaper's looking you in
the eye and Charon's waiting to take you over

The tides come in for to carry the soul that's vacant and
void; nothing there to redeem - just a shell whose final
place is the lowest, darkest regions of Hel

I hope that She embraces you with open arms and gladly
tortures you eternally - your appropriate Reward you void,
wretched soul that only brought into Gaia blood that from
the ground ascends in cries and sighs and desire to be
avenged

Hopefully when you enter in they'll take a jagged bone and
carve-out that inked tear painted under your eye; the one
never put there from sorrow, but for bragging-rights

   Now, the blood of Innocents is on your hands as you
went to far and carried-out your conceived and premeditated
vile plans

  You looked at the man/woman/child/crowd and exacted
your ritual, whether first-time or now habitual; first-offender
or mass-murderer, to me it makes no difference - you went
to far and stepped-into shoes not made for you

Cock-sucker payments due; the Reaper's looking you in
theeye and Charon's waiting to take you over

The tides come in for to carry the soul that's vacant and
void; nothing there to redeem - just a shell whose final
place is the lowest, darkest regions of Hel

  I can only hope that the souls that took and slaughtered,
raped and tortured; molested, toyed with before you put
them out of he misery that you put them through, can view
what Hel has waiting for to do to you