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Have you ever watched them as they gather there on Sundays |
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In grotesque clothes as tokens of esteem |
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And stoop beneath the musty pulpit, ready to submit |
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Their bodies and their souls to the machine |
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It's normal to submit |
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To feed the holy leech |
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To sell yourself to slavery |
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Believe in what they preach |
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The smell of the church lies like guilt upon their shoulders |
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Oppressive silence dulls the brain, accept |
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Kneel in repentance, you will accept our doctrine |
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And share in all the relics we have kept |
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People must believe in ways to eliminate their freedom |
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The church is just like bondage of the brain |
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It's frightening to realise what's happening outside |
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Obscure the view with Christ on coloured panes |
