Lyrics by Brett Kull

My Dear Wormwood I'm pleased with your progress
I hear your patient is feeling doubt and is slipping
He's falling from grace at a nice even pace

My Dear Wormwood I'm delighted to hear
Your patient's made some new friends
We've checked them they're all clear
They're worldly, intelligent, and cynically secure

My Dear Nephew don't hurry your patient
You may awaken him to his real position
Let him think that his actions don't matter at all

The infernal police have informed me
you're patient's leaning towards the other side
You've got to bring us back some food Wormwood
or become food yourself

I've enclosed a booklet for incentive
On the new "House of Corrections for Incompetent Tempters"
You'll find every page to be far from dull

And in a moment you've let a soul slip through your fingers
I can hear the howl of sharpened famine
For it's loss echoes on and on through the kingdom of noise
There was a clearing of his eyes
and he knew what you had in him
We now have nothing! Oh the degradation of it!

My Dear Wormwood My Dear Dear Wormwood
I think the high command will give me a piece of you
I feel anxious to see you, I long to embrace you

Poppet fool, hunger drool
Ravenous for swine infernal
Forever damned serve your sentence
In eternal hell!