Drunkards and thieves, they mean nothing to me All of their lives are for me, to cease Worthless creations, walking abominations Shits of human race, waste of air and space When the eyes turn inwards, you've run out of luck When the eyes turn inwards, you're the one that's fucked When the eyes turn inwards, you better be prepared When the eyes turn inwards, no one will be spared Stench of soiled clothes, stench of rotten souls Ridden with disease, lice worms, and fleas They say it's not their fault, how they turned out to be Well maybe I don't care, 'cause I hate to hear them breathe