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Bastard son of blood and mirth, come forth

Ye cursed by your ancestor's own undoing

Your world shall be of your own merits

A filthy rag encrusted with your afterbirth

May your peace be stricken of you, replaced with the burden of death

May your poison be bittersweet, rotting from the whoring of your worth

May your malfeasance dull your joy as you writhe in wretched speech

'My cup overfloweth' prayed as you spit in the offering plate

(Tommy Rouse)

Not only does the curse thrive in your blood

You've welcomed it into your filthy home

Be joyful in the indifference of your existence

Blissful amidst the horrors you partake in

Drunken off of melancholic aspirations

Spewing the acrid acclamation of misanthropy

Consummating with the rage of pestilence

The hubris of euphoric degradation

May your malfeasance dull your joy as you writhe in wretched speech

'My cup overfloweth' prayed as you spit in the offering plate