Son of filth, born of scum
In the manger she'll succumb,
The foul breed screams it's love,
The word of a "god" above.
The weak fall to their knees,
Suffering from faith's disease,
I despise pathetic lies,
This race of worthless flies.
Death to the holy,
The god they can't see,
The liar high above,
Graces none with his love,
I will bear witness,
To all religious,
Ravaged by disease,
With no god to appease

Death to all that is holy,
Your vile disgusting flesh will rot,
There is no salvation.

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