On Monday murder children, little girls and boys
Wrap my hands around their throats till they don't make a noise
Tuesday torture animals, cut off small birds wings
Watch them as they bleed to death, then they don't sing
Wednesdays I defecate on the priest's front door
And If the priest he does complain, I just do it some more
And Thursdays I Molatov the local orphanage home
I love those little orphans, char them to the bone

'Cuz I'm terrible, terrible, shouldn't be allowed
To sing my songs of filth, to a decent crowd
'Cuz I'm terrible, terrible, shouldn't be allowed
To sing my songs of filth, to a decent crowd

On Fridays sodomize tender virgin nuns
Tie them up, leer at them, and then I have my fun
Saturdays I stand and sing my sad, sad, sick, sick songs
To anyone who'll listen, who in the head is wrong
But Sunday, Sunday, the day I love the best
I rape, murder, and pillage while other people rest

'Cuz I'm terrible, terrible, shouldn't be allowed
To sing my songs of filth to a decent crowd
'Cuz I'm terrible, terrible, shouldn't be allowed
But when I do offend someone it makes me feel so proud