Текст песни Behemoth - The Sermon To The Hypocrites, слова песни Behemoth

Текст песни Behemoth - The Sermon To The Hypocrites

Behemoth - The Sermon To The Hypocrites слова песни

O, ye whose future is in other hands!Foul feeders! Slipped, are ye on you excrement?Parasites! Having the world lousy,Imagine ye are of significance to HeavenI, who enjoy my body[I] would rather pack with wolvesthan enter your pest - housesSensation... Nutrition... Mastication... Procreation...!This is your blind - worm cycleKnow ye of nothing further than your own stench?Heaven is indifferent to your salvation or catastropheThe sword - trust - not salve - I bring!Honest was Sodom!Your theology is a slime - pit of gibberish become ethicsIn your world, where ignorance and deceit constitute felicityEverything ends miserably - - besmirched with fratricidal blood.

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Behemoth

The Sermon To The Hypocrites

Текст песни Behemoth - The Sermon To The Hypocrites

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