Your veins boil with the wine of hell You are the toast at the demon feast You hide with your robes and rules, your relics and rosaries You've fed off of innocence for far too long Now you are the harvest Now you are the harvest Begin the reaping Now you are the harvest You conceal your heart- Where dark fire burns- With the riches from your flock
But held to the light that you never knew Your intentions are clear Your darkness burns brighter than the fear in your eyes As you cry "Lord, Lord" Like many times, many times before With desperation, this is the first This is the first time, the very first Lord, Lord, hear our cry We're all desperate for the first time Lord, Lord, hear our cry