Deliver to me the thieves, the murderers 
And those with whom 
I find no fault 
Just give me bodies - and the means to kill 
It matters not who is guilty, who is innocent 
It only matters where my fancy leads me 
I live to please myself as you blood spills out 
When you expire - there's a hundred more: 
All who came to see - the curious, the morbid 
Nero decides their fate - the arena becomes an assorted 
Spectacle played out en masse 
You soul means nothing, your pain even less 
As your loved one plead for my forgiveness 
Not an ounce of mercy will 
I give out 
Bind the ropes, set the horses afoot 
Wailing crise, limbs torn out by the root 
Entertaining drunken guests as the 
Christians are martyred 
Crimes so petty - the result - drawn and quartered 
The result - drawn and quartered 
How can it be, as my own death is imminent 
That you, oh 
Lord, still love me 
A life in the pleasure of torture and murder 
I can't understand it - 
I can't understand