Sign from pulpit through the church
Faces like silent crypt
Hear to words of a greed priest
And he lies even in prayer
Drop of sweat on his temple
Give away the derisive sin
He's writhe between amused candels
And talks to the crowd withered
Nonsense
Queue of faithful blind lambs
Waiting for messiah's body
They lick the hands of clown
Thanking with collection for blessing
Queue of faithful blind lambs
Waiting for messia's blood
But it's only cheap red wine
Not-send by heaven
Let them burn at stake
Rip their skins again
Mentor of many names
Now look at you with grief
Pain, emptyness
Bitter truth like carrion
Pain of bloody tempels
Nothingmore around your faith
Empty words to all the figures
Rotten fruit of mercy