I bow down your precious icon, deity of self suppression

This effigy of flesh, corporeal Christi, nailed

In submission to this false idol, seeking deliverance

From this spiritual hierarchy, downward spiralling, a corrupt throne

Of repression and guilt



Our will be done

Thy kingdom burn



On my knees, before this tormented flesh, in irreverence

This imperious creed bears testament to the failures of our morality

Righteous durance is our cross we bear in stations

In stations of the lost



Our will be done

Thy kingdom burn, thy kingdom burn

Our will be done



From your knees arise

By your own hand, your god you scribe

The earth shall inherit the meek

Your god is dead



Bound down, in God we're trussed, foul stature

Icons embodied in flesh, we nail

In servitude to deities fashioned in our self image

Shadows of eternal strife cast by those who serve

Serve a crown of pawns