Here's a little something from a god to a slave I never should have been let out the fucking microwave! I'm on this planet, I'm running amok I should give a shit but I don't give a fuck, no! Since I was a scumdog, I blew a cum-wad I need a motherfucking suckadickalickalong! Burning a mall or two, blowing the load I spew You don't wanna fucking fuck me? I'll fuck you! This is your ass, and I'm in it My man Sexy fuck you up in a minute With an axe, sword, mace, pike, you're limbless And then I'll fuck your ass till its rimless! Ohh! You humans always screaming Ohh! As you suckle on my semen Ohh! And the shit is always steaming A drunk, a pervert, a junkie and a womanizer But you can call me the Salaminizer! I need more! I need more! I need more! I need more! Give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto Me more! Me more! Me more! Give into, give unto, give into, give into, give unto Me more! Me more! Me more! Give into, give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto Me more! Me more! Me more! Me more! Me, me more, you! M-m-m-my life is a luxury, so filled with hate I got fifty slaves heaping maggots on my plate From my fortress in Antarctica I watch the world die On my Sony Trinitron that's switched to channel 5 Back on the road, it's no lie The stupid fucking humans pay money to die! Crushed in the pit, nailed to the stage I only suck the souls that are underage Ohh! You humans always screaming Ohh! As you suckle on my semen Ohh! And the shit is always steaming A drunk, a pervert, a junkie and a sodomizer But you can call me the Salaminizer! I need more! I need more! I need more! I need more! Give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto Me more! Me more! Me more! Give into, give into, give into, give into, give into Me more! Me more! Me more! Give into, give unto, give unto, give unto, give unto Me more! Me more! Me more! Me more! Me, me more, you! This deli tray is unacceptable!.

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The Covenant of the Twelve

The Twelve stand at the edge of all things, where light dies and breath is useless. They are not seen, only sensed like blood beneath the skin.

They were not born, nor made. They appeared when the first thing ceased, and they will endure until the last thing ends.

They do not speak. Their presence alone is command.
The First carries stillness. Their touch strips meaning from time. In the eternal wake, moments unravel, and memory becomes dust.
The Second wears a crown of ruin. What they pass through is not destroyed; it simply never was. The Third has no face, only absence. To see them is to forget yourself. The Twelve do not kill. They end. Death belongs to the living. Theirs is a work beyond mercy, beyond punishment. Where they walk, they wither. The unholy drop untouched, as if the ground forgets their existence. The faithful do not pray to the Twelve. They wait. They will come at the last moment. Not to greet, not to guide but to erase. All debts will fall silent in their shadow. When the Twelfth arrives, there will be no sound, only absence where sound once was. The Twelve do not promise peace. There is no peace to offer. They grant only one thing, an end. When they are near, the air thickens, heavy. Time slips. The heart slows. You will not notice it stop. To summon the Twelve is to dissolve yourself. What remains will be hollow, an echo long after the voice is gone.