Woorden:
Rumpelstiltskin Grinder

Police patrol the streets, Protect and comfort the weak, Dependence thrown aside, To leave the weak behind, But beware, it was only a matter of time,

This is a world of treachery, The underground legions are ours, We'll never give in, Rise to the surface Spreading your filth across the land of the

will happen to your corpses after you're dead and turning blue. This is the way to get back at your enemies, Dig up their graves, rip out their bones Grind

Whiiiir... Once the grinder goes 'round, First reel was full Whiiir, whiiir, two times the grinder goes 'round Second reel was full. Whiir, whiiir, whiiir

You hear, the merman swampin' around Grab your ears, look away, try to block out the sound Then you smell the sludge, see a lifeless shell Close your

Century 17: It was a meek yet morbid scene, The devil, some ghouls and zombie fiends, They needed some props in this century, Let's go! Set the time

Stolen from me, riches fucking sick Shadows becoming small, find them... Destroy them all! Fetch backpacks, your flashlights, We're gonna hunt those

You creep down streets so dark, You duck so they can't see you. Silence, you're wrong you're judged Terror! The scent gives you away But then you hear

The soul of this world is gone, Just a shell of its former self, No honour is left in this wasteland, Just a desolate, barbaric hell, What have we become