Awaiting your sentence Locked up in your hell Your crime will now be tested By the jury representing Death Bitterness inside you All you feel is hate Not for the vicious crime But for the victims you kept alive Incision, precision, Remove the limps The pulse beats on, The body won't turn cold I stab, I drill, My intention's clear My hands they squeeze, But the bastard won't die Hang him high No remorse for the crimes you've done Hang him high Blood on your hands won't wash away Waiting on deathrow Staring at the walls The cell is closing up on me Memories I can't defeat I stab, I drill, My intention's clear My hands they squeeze, But the bastard won't die Hang him high No remorse for the crimes you've done Hang him high Blood on your hands won't wash away A scarred and abused soul tries to cope with life Hiding in your twisted game He was dead before he started to feel alive Now justice will take its toll Hang him high No remorse for the crimes you've done Hang him high Blood on your hands won't wash away.