Pawn of the undead, tell me What drives the herd to the altar? To sing, his songs To kill in the name of the father? As subjects, seraphic, so mesmerized
Who speaks, from the air Through words in text-bound fiction? Aeon, epochs... What binds the flock to these illusions? Unquestioned, apocryphal, arcanum ...so obsolete
Penetrate the myth and artifice
Are we not still brothers, born from flesh alike? Yet that burden's on your back, handed down through time Its coils grip firm, its forked tongue spits The written word is law, there's ʹno god but god,ʹ after all?
The names will change from one nation to the next Yet one word joins them all - megalomaniacs Minerva's owl is dead, the zealot's arrow struck Spiral, spin, logic drifts, into the dusk
Breaking the bread, inquisitors arrive! Anathema decreed Duplicity, deceit Off with their heads, they will say Embodiment of faith Riven in disgrace Off with their heads, just the same Merciful and kind Holy and divine Off with their heads, either way Sanity and peace Ever out of reach Off with their heads, it's too late
No maps point back from this place When damnation calls, the confessor leads the way Messengers of god Cut their throats and praise in rapture
Mental malcontents Spewing forth fairly tales History is spent Carving up minds of men Sleepwalk through life To caskets waiting, open wide Dead axioms Binds the past through broken hymnsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
