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Obsolete Incarnation
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Witch Hunt
There's a fine line between faith and madness.
Where the mind is left behind, belief becomes
a radical demon.
Thanks to you, little child, we will be saved.
A priest opens our eyes and makes us understand.
An emissary of wicked doctrine, profit and selfishness.
We thank you with money and wine.
Take, so we won't die, won't suffer, and won't end up as fiends.
Deprived of food. Torn from sleep, raped to drain life.
Methods do become more abnormal, but this is the way to go.
Beaten into unconsciousness, bruises form on the black skin.
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We need to open up your head, free the devil from your empty shell.
The demon is expelled and your blood will yield a good harvest.
The dismembered body yields again a rich harvest from the dry ground.
We dance around your empty body, finally we're fortunate again.
The fields will blossom again, our blessings and prayers count as seeds.
The expression, completely empty.
After days of torture it has to happen.
Who kills for something, torments and mutilates must also please a god that only flourishes from evil.
Driven by ignorance and with the idea of redemption,Abandoned and expelled ... these poor souls lost in a world and cast out, out of fear.
Forget what was done when we eat again.
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