| Burn your christ inside | |
| You'll never see the light | |
| Your brainwashed eyes behold | |
| The things you thought you saw | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell your life's a prayer | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell you were afraid | |
| But your mind is gone for nothing | |
| Inside your head is turning to a cabbage | |
| Faith is just a curse | |
| Unless it's build on trust | |
| But how to trust a "man" | |
| Who never show his face | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell your life's a prayer | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell you were afraid | |
| But your mind is gone for nothing | |
| Inside your head is turning to a cabbage | |
| Your mind is gone for nothing | |
| Inside your head is turning to a cabbage | |
| The holy cross is made | |
| To those without a string | |
| Like the puppets without a soul | |
| You're an easy target to pull | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell your life's a prayer | |
| For a moment I reached inside | |
| I could tell you were afraid | |
| But your mind is gone for nothing | |
| Inside your head is turning to a cabbage | |
| Your mind is gone for nothing | |
| Inside your head is turning to a cabbage | |
| Turning to a cabbage | |
| Turning to a cabbage | |
| Turning to a cabbage | |
| Turning to a cabbage | |
| Turning to a cabbage |