Crucified by your own mistakes
Condemned by your own weakness
I can't see on it anything like a savior
You are nothing but a j**ish myth
A myth that makes his followers as weak as you were
Slaves of servitude
Raise your hands
That's the best you can do
There will be two thousand more years of weakness
The weakness that that keeps pa**ing through generations
Poor lambs
They live to exalt the power of light
But they don't realize they are living
In the most absolute darkness
They can't see that their way
Is to the abattoir
You're really nothing more than miserable lambs
Slaves of the hippie j**
Is this your savior?
Legends and myths fall
Your story has never been more than a j**ish tale
A tale that is still supplying the needs of this people
"Chosen" by this weak and impotent jehovah