From the Olympic City we will cast
Our runic charms, our charms that last
Enough for a pig a day, enough to make them pay
Enough for pigs to disappear in every way
A threat for a threat
And a blow for a blow
A stripe for a stripe
As above, so below
Your puerile words mean nothing to me
Your traitor trotters teeter totter, and scurry!
For all pigs must die, your being is a lie.