Your club is trashed and it's made of cash!
Your club is track and it's made of cash!
Sitting in your golden temples, gold you ripped-off of the poor
Since the day you entered this stage you've been lying, betraying, deceiving
Inventing stories to control the unknowing masses with their fear
Hypocrisy, lies and religious nonsense made your corporation flourish
Holy Mary, pope, all the saints, purgatory, absolution letters
These fairytales are all built on your religious mysticism
Back in the medieval ages you slaughtered millions for your glory
That's what this is about, there's no worse representation of God
You're a state with political interests, you even got your own currency
To ensure more power and influence you make up irrational laws
Your club is trash and it's made of cash!

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