Three foot tall, this little creature
Got abused by a dirty old preacher
He had the power and this itch was his drive
A kid damaged for life

A group feels they have the power
Walking the streets for more than an hour
Searching for an innocent victim
And together beating life out of him

What is the purpose of this violent shit
Look in the mirror, are you proud of it

It is the useless creation of pain
I will shoot a bullet through your brain
It is the useless creation of loss
Now I will show you who is the boss

A holiday on testosterone
Making tourists go all on the run
One man down, keep kicking his head
Another kick and punch ‘till he’s dead

You see a couple you might think are gay
Why don’t we beat them up straight away
Because there is no reason for a discussion
Leave them for dead with a heavy concussion

Think before you’re getting wild
Everybody is someone’s child

It is the useless creation of pain
I will shoot a bullet through your brain
It is the useless creation of loss
Now I will show you who is the boss