I love knowing what I'd be able to do,

To get away with killing you

It takes planning and time for the perfect crime

A weapon of choice,

Some bags of quick lime

Torture I won't

Your souls already tortured

Just know that soon

You'll be in a mortuary

So unsuspecting

I'll speak at the wake

And trust me

There'll be nothing good to say

But first I'll eat all the sausage rolls

And toast to you

You absolute troll