Within the halls of the infirm
I inject, I slice, I make them squirm
None can reveal
Dressed in white, ushering their poisoned meals
Overdosing
Their grip of life, pragmatically closing
I hold the blade to their mortal coil
And they find sleep in the soil
With syringe in hand
They'll die as planned
Their life I cease
With morbid ease
Sordid addiction
The will to defile
Innate, since birth
A carcinophile
Untraceable, intangible
Feeding an infant
With tainted lead
Ejaculate
As the tumor spreads
A lethal dose of insulin
Exposure to fatal pathogens
With syringe in hand
They'll die as planned
Their life I cease
With morbid ease
The sickness, alluring
The foul stench enduring
The snapping of bones
A delectable tone
Of septic necrosis
And cruel diagnosis
The ghost of departure
Is feeding on their helpless cries
With syringe in hand
They'll die as planned
I deliver the sick
Now who shall I pick
Incisions cut so deep
I bless them with eternal sleep
And even if I fall
I've honored him through infernal call
