Daily Death

I don’t care 'bout your crime
'cause it’s your fault and not mine
I’m just the hangman — it’s my job
you’re just the lamb and you are fucked
I’ll fix you on the stretcher
no one will do it better
bring you to your death
'till you breath your last breath
in school they told me things 'bout morals and glory
and also that I should never question their authority
poisoning and killing is the stuff of my life
earning money for the kids and trappings for my wife
I don’t brood over it
'cause it’s my job and I won’t quit
just like a puppet — wound up to run
your life is gone — take care my son
one last shot — without delay:
«goodbye and have a nice day»
one last shot — without delay