Minds seduced by scripture, masquerade as pawns

Rejecting each other, they take on many forms

Holy hymns, incantations, rise into the air



High on the myths of the church

They never quite see where they are

Like God, their devil is an icon, for face-painting frauds



A holy ghost laugh, a fetish for the weak

Satanic overlords for paranoid freaks



Always ranting and obsessing, hiding from themselves

Living out their fantasy, morbidly indulged



High on the myths of the church

They never quite see where they are

Their devil is a joke in the real world 

Where death is never far



Burn all the icons, fuck your fairytales 

Cleanse your head of filth



Bred on illusion, fed on tradition pull the wool from your eyes