Текст песни
The Servants of Got in the desert of stones
The Hands broken up to the blood and the bones
The fools toughly praying in eyeless delight
And bending the knees to the corpse Iconized
And was it determined by anyone else?
For centuries, years and hours and days
Slogging your guts out without any hope
For vomity peckings and flea-bitten fronts
Gave up the reason, forgot about sense
Charmed and misguided by specious tales
They're fuming with censers and grinning the teeth
Charging the rabble to give them the grigs
The prophets are lying with no second thoughts
Defaming and cramming with spurious goals
Convincing the sheeps that the roadway to heaven
Is sure as hell paved with torment and famine
I'll violate the sanctuary
And you will suffer on and on
I'll desecrate the sanctuary
Until the heresy is gone
