Hang Him High - Hypocrisy

Awaiting your sentence

Locked up in your hell

Your crime will now be tested

By the jury representing Death

Bitterness inside you

All you feel is hate

Not for the vicious crime

But for the victims you kept alive

Incision, precision, remove the limps

The pulse beats on, the body won’t turn cold

I stab, I drill, my intention’s clear

My hands they squeeze, but the bastard won’t die

Hang him high

No remorse for the crimes you’ve done

Hang him high

Blood on your hands won’t wash away

Waiting on deathrow

Staring at the walls

The cell is closing up on me

Memories I can’t defeat

I stab, I drill, my intention’s clear

My hands they squeeze, but the bastard won’t die

Hang him high

No remorse for the crimes you’ve done

Hang him high

Blood on your hands won’t wash away

A scarred and abused soul

Tries to cope with life

Hiding in your twisted game

He was dead before he started to feel alive

Now justice will take its toll

Hang him high

No remorse for the crimes you’ve done

Hang him high

Blood on your hands won’t wash away