| Minds seduced by scripture, masquerade as pawns
|
| Rejecting each other, they take on many forms
|
| Minions praising with compulsion, statues stand and stare
|
| Holy hymns, incantations, rise into the air
|
| High on the myths of the church
|
| They never quite see where they are
|
| Like God, their devil is an icon, for face-painting frauds
|
| A holy ghost laugh, a fetish for the weak
|
| Satanic overlords for paranoid freaks
|
| Always ranting and obsessing, hiding from themselves
|
| Living out their fantasy, morbidly indulged
|
| High on the myths of the church
|
| They never quite see where they are
|
| Their devil is a joke in the real world
|
| Where death is never far
|
| Burn all the icons, fuck your fairytales
|
| Cleanse your head of filth
|
| Bred on illusion, fed on tradition pull the wool from your eyes |