The machine that festers its offspring into the heart of man It summons beckoning to the temple of faith Shining a beacon to grip control in wanting minds Together they spread slavery into pristine disguise Of fountains spreading red
Awaiting in halls carved of beating hearts that curtain the windows What’s left of them fall but those who convulse behind the machine Fear the power it gives so they breed manipulations Chains that bind the spirit and the mind Enter into this wall crawling fever dream The chapel in shackled cloaks shook wide eyed
Beneath the pews the knees bent backwards As candles sweat into stigmata held reservoirs “I welcome you to this sanctuary” Said the scalpel stalking priest Its hands fitted with knives as it caresses its congregation They stood paralyzed Testaments mangled to authorities Feeding illusive lords Confessions to the ears of traitors Blinded flock forged enlightened will Deformed for the hold of the Blade grasp priesthood
Praying in pools of pastoral lust under The disguise of her shifting eyes a blur Sewn with fear came together for Greater good of the masters lore They appeared before singing conjuring hymns of old Suited in its cold thread
Awaiting in halls carved of beating hearts that curtain the windows What’s left of them fall but those who convulse behind the machine Fear the power it givesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
