Lyrics Cry Of The Celts - Ronan Hardiman

Cry Of The Celts

The holy cloth — the foul priest
The holy cross — hands that bleed
Unholy prayer — my sacrilege
A coward’s crown — my blasphemy
Cult of the dead
Curse the saviour, curse him until death
Cult of the dead
Curse the priest, until his last breath
The shepherd’s call, they congregate
The mindless herd, I desecrate
Flesh turned to bread, for us he died
Blood to wine, the sacred lies
Cult of the dead
Curse the saviour, curse him until death
Cult of the dead
Curse the priest, until his last breath
Cult of the dead
Curse the saviour, curse him until death
Torment of the flesh, submission to him
Church of damnation, heaven be denied
Fear of the beast, inevitable doom
Submission to sin
The heretic’s soul, in fire consumed
The prey like vultures on the masses
Of the living dead
The foul servants of the christ
The crucified son
Let him bleed till death
And spit on his rotting corpse
We celebrate the death of god
Pierce the side of christ again