A thousand fenced churches
They´re lost in their profits,
It´s business as usual.
´We have the words,
We have the whole see,
We have the sun deep in our holy pews
And maybe they´re better off dead,
no need to worship the stones.
And I see them in the dark of my day
and they grow like marrow in my bones
A hundred torch bearers.
they´re storming the service
because theyve been fooled.
They break down the doors,
they see the blood and the whores.
Forgive them because they know not what they do
And maybe they´re better off dead,
no need to worship the stones.
And I see them in the dark of my day
and they grow on my bones
And when I´m afraid
I call the names.
Make no mistake
they´re not to blame
I have the eyes.
I have the breath.
I have this hunger in my chest.
Don´t sell methe eyes, sell the eyes
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