Текст песни G.B.H. - The Prayer Of A Realist
G.B.H. - The Prayer Of A Realist слова песни
OriginalThere`s no one up there there never was.Only in vain is there a god.There`s too much suffering for him to be ..an almighty power, a heavenly being.My god, your god, whose god, there is no god ?The fabric of prophet`s ages old.Drones on and gathers mould.Gets a weekly airing from a fool on high.Who talks and talks till his throat`s dry.A fund for a roof with a hole.It`s the money they`ll save not your soul.Persistant begging from men of the cloth.Refuse his offer and see his wrath.The weak ones kneel to him they pray."Oh saviour come back someday".Sinning whilst waiting for a sign.I deny him he`s yours not mine.