| 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 spiraling | |
| A corrupt throne of repression and guilt | |
| Our will be done | |
| Thy kingdom burn | |
| On my knees, before this tormented flesh, in irreverence | |
| In communion with this parasitic host of virtuous divinity | |
| 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 |
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