| That night I saw the flames flicker on the television set
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| The vicar's tears fell as he faced the cameramen
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| My mother grabbed her crucifix and drew in her breath
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| It's suspected arson, the newsreader said
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| My life was reborn into that incendiary darkness
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| It brought to mind the great writers of satanic verses
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| From that truth my eyes glowed with unholy illumination
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| From the matchstick spark until the final glowing embers
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| I'm called by the light of burning churches
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| I'm saved by the light of burning churches
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| I was always the altar boy and never a thief
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| Part of the choir and friends with the priest
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| But it all changed when those prayer books went up in flames
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| Childhood on fire, consumed in the blaze
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| Now I smoke all my opportunities right down to the filter
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| I don't regret a single fucking moment of my future
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| And I know the devil better than himself
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| There's no good fun in Heaven
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| 'Cause we're down here raising hell
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| I'm called by the light of burning churches
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| I'm saved by the light of burning churches
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| There's plenty of things that should be left unsaid
|
| So I'll drink some more whiskey and I'll say them again
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| My life is this war against their words
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| Slaves to salvation and prayers to their lord
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| I'll take up my seat next to Anton LaVey
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| With a Molotov cocktail and a can of gasoline
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| Oh, ashes up to Heaven
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| Beautiful destruction
|
| I grew up by that light
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| I was raised by that light
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| Burn, burn, burn
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| Burn, burn, burn
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| Burn, burn, burn
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| Burn, burn, burn
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| Burn, burn, burn
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| Burn, burn, burn
|
| Burn, burn, burn
|
| Burning churches
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| I'm called by the light of burning churches
|
| I'm saved by the light of burning churches
|
| I'm called by the light of burning churches
|
| I'm saved by the light of burning churches |