Sonderkommando

I'm blundering brightly through the night

Astride the thunderous, flaming trident bike

They choked back years of jeers

Flashing forceful through their peers

Inflicting beastly cheesy beaver bite

What would you do?

You'd do your job

Sonderkommando

King for a day

What would you do?

Naked infants left alone

Syntho-nipple, pit of stone

Ravaged in an inane grip

Chewing chicken from the lip

Those that survived found a place

With the elders of the race

Tossed upon the heaving brine

Spreading hatred to mankind

Maggot palace, rod of bone

Slave to fetid underloam

Who gibbers at the nauseater

Fudge-packed, dimple fecal leaper

What would you do?

You'd do your job

Sonderkommando

King for a day