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The most heinous con |
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refuge of evil |
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cloven tongues that speak of truth |
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With false, specious words |
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they sold what can't be bought |
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Acherontic saints of holy sales. |
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Damn bloody lies |
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Burn me alive |
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Silence! Those mouths are stuffed by truth |
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Hark! At the ruins of the vile I will dance |
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... in victory! |
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They don't heed the eternal |
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I can see the fruits |
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of a spirit putrescent |
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The ogre burning heretics |
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the cleansing stake |
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I'm not daunted by distress |
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for all lie in inanity. |
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but some stretched out their hands |
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and touched the awen. |
