Truth, was that you?
Who try to scoop, your fate uncertain
Lie, was that you?
Who always were addicted to weakness
(So what the problem is)
Know what version is real
What part should he trust
Who he might condemn
Who his conscious blame
The gods are hiding
What men are looking for
There living
Cause something is wrong,
Something is missing
Now, he drunk from the anesthetist liquid
Forced by an institution who persist to find a mystic, a metaphysic formula
To explain and control behavior.
Using figures, idols, who don't belong and never will to certain things.
Hey dear brother, maintain your thinking within your freedom.
Don't flatter!!
If you want to progress leave those papers down below .
Don't trust them, no
The thing you must do now, forget that crap about
Heaven and angels will be useless among these grounds
This lie has a name its call superstition
Superstition.
Trust no fear,
Fear only the line of bishop's minds
They are trying to control
And traying to make your way
We still are in time for your medicine
They make you to see
How they want you to be
Come out of the dream its better
Seldom you put on practice thosse ideologies
Often you prefer to look to the side
When you have to answer why
And its because there is no answer
it's because you try to supply our imperfection
And win the war of the existence with celestial allies
Illusion to control men kind
Gonna make you a lamb of the flock.