Blessed are those who write their own scriptures For they shall be kings of the new world
Since the down of civilization The so-called men of god Have been lost in their obscurities Their words would lead to sorrow Commanding the weak to follow A design for tyrants to control and enslave
We subdue not the voice inside us We only bow down on our prey
Fire rains down from the heavens Pouring down on those too weak to learn On the ruins of the dead religion Standing tall as the enslaving doctrines burn
Blindly the sheep walk to their doom For they leader not bring peace but a sword
To lead the flock astray Each cult began their game They created the face of evil ang gave it a name We take their game and squeze it Until it breaks in shards And under the remains the truth will survive
We are the child who question sincerely And in our eyes a mirror framed
Fire rains down from the heavens Pouring down on those too weak to learn On the ruins of the dead religion Standing tall as the enslaving doctrines burnTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
