Cuntcrusher - Infant Annihilator

The gears are set into place;

The finals stages of purification are nudged into motion

By our pious Pope

The prevention of the second coming of Christ

Is now drawing closer to completion

Dissolution of component forces

Act together as one — a single congregation

Tied together with one purpose in mind:

The prevention of Christ’s birth

Dead are collected and piled

To feed the flames of a furnace fire

The day lit sky is now blackened by the infant ashes

As they rise they bring us darkness

Turning day to night

With the remnants of the children burning, we begin the last stage

Surviving females are loaded onto transports and then shipped to our parishes

Where they’re tagged, then stripped of their clothing

Assigned numbers and then taken to

Eugenic controlled concentration camps

This is where they spend the rest of their pathetic lives

One by one the worms dry out

In the sun at the mercy of their new master.

Their existence exhausts itself without

The ability to procreate

Seared onto their heads and their hands

Is the mark of The Beast.

This holy number, sacred in its symbolism

Now marks the doom of fertility

By the order of the Pope

We condemn them to be neutered

With a machine devised to sterilize

With a hundred tons of force, its name is The Cuntcrusher.

Hooks pierce through their feet

Then suspends them upside down

To be fed into the side where they are conveyed to a press of blades

With their legs pried open, their cunts align

At the flick of a switch

They are sterilized