| Song | Dawkins Christ |
| Artist | Refused |
| Album | Freedom |
| The thought of love triggers lonely hearts | |
| Gladly reaching out just to be a part | |
| So we live to serve, made it into an art | |
| How shallow the soul | |
| How deep the fear | |
| How grave the hunger | |
| To get out of here | |
| Fear and hate keeps us in line | |
| As we climb crosses of our own design | |
| Nails in our flesh, hammers in our minds | |
| Feels like I’ve got | |
| Judas’ heart | |
| Dawkins’ head | |
| Praise the lord | |
| God is Dead | |
| All the brahmin masses they’ll come back again | |
| They’ve got lord Krsna to guide their hand | |
| Gotama’s flock they don’t mind the chains | |
| They know nirvana will end their pain | |
| And the Avestan pupils, the forsakers of druj | |
| They’ll be one with the maker when they’re one with the truth | |
| All of Luther’s children gladly suffer now | |
| They’ll get pie in the sky on the day they die | |
| Got no soul to sell | |
| Refused salvation | |
| Did my time in hell | |
| No absolution, no alibis | |
| Just belief and doubt and then we die | |
| We furnish the void with our attempts at lives | |
| I got | |
| Judas’ Heart | |
| Nietzsche’s soul | |
| Dawkins’ cock | |
| In a god-shaped hole | |
| How shallow the soul | |
| How deep the fear | |
| How grave the need | |
| there’s just one way out of here |
| The thought of love triggers lonely hearts | |
| Gladly reaching out just to be a part | |
| So we live to serve, made it into an art | |
| How shallow the soul | |
| How deep the fear | |
| How grave the hunger | |
| To get out of here | |
| Fear and hate keeps us in line | |
| As we climb crosses of our own design | |
| Nails in our flesh, hammers in our minds | |
| Feels like I' ve got | |
| Judas' heart | |
| Dawkins' head | |
| Praise the lord | |
| God is Dead | |
| All the brahmin masses they' ll come back again | |
| They' ve got lord Krsna to guide their hand | |
| Gotama' s flock they don' t mind the chains | |
| They know nirvana will end their pain | |
| And the Avestan pupils, the forsakers of druj | |
| They' ll be one with the maker when they' re one with the truth | |
| All of Luther' s children gladly suffer now | |
| They' ll get pie in the sky on the day they die | |
| Got no soul to sell | |
| Refused salvation | |
| Did my time in hell | |
| No absolution, no alibis | |
| Just belief and doubt and then we die | |
| We furnish the void with our attempts at lives | |
| I got | |
| Judas' Heart | |
| Nietzsche' s soul | |
| Dawkins' cock | |
| In a godshaped hole | |
| How shallow the soul | |
| How deep the fear | |
| How grave the need | |
| there' s just one way out of here |