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Bow yourself down before your precious icon
Deity of self suppression
This effigy of flesh, corporeal Christi, nailed
In submission to this false idol seeking deliverance
From this spiritual hierarchy, downward spiraling
A corrupt throne of repression and guilt
Our will be done
Thy kingdom will burn
On my knees before this tormented flesh in irreverence
In communion with this parasitic host of virtuous divinity
This imperious creed bears testament to the failures of our morality
Righteous durance is our cross we bear in stations
In stations of the lost
Our will be done
Thy kingdom will burn
Thy kingdom burn
Our will be done
Rise, from your knees, arise
Rise by your own hand
Your god, your scribe
Pray the Earth shall inherit the meek
Pray, your god is dead
We're all bound down, in god, we're thrust
Foul stature
The icons embodied in flesh we nail
In servitude to deities fashioned in our self-image
Shadows of eternal strife cast by those who serve
A crown of pawns
Our will be done
Thy kingdom will burn
Thy kingdom burn
Our will be done
Rise, from your knees, arise
Rise by your own hand
Your god, your scribe
For the Earth shall inherit the meek
Their god is dead
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