Tea, herbs and death
The worst masters, they have just met
For them they must work faster,
Or their veins will be bled
Under command
They have to overload bags with content
While having a rope on their throat,
And a brand on their hand
Men with white wigs,
Maim them and totally beat them with sticks
They tell the slaves to serve
And prepare a stoning with bricks
Under command, they predict a certain death
Under command, with lashes their skins will be peeled
Under command, to perdition they are led
Under command, immense pains will be revealed

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN