This world is thicker than our earth.
It pumps much blood than our hearts.
Gold key is the root of the devil.
Its worlds assembled rough asserts,
Squash the victims like flies.
Devil makes work for idle hands,
The die is cast, where to go?
Death is the great leveler.
The book has been judged,
The knife and fork used to dig.
Downcast never lay justice, the devil
Looks after his own.
The victims have a shaking knee
The draculars take out the knees