do you feel alive now, now that you own the dead   preying on their corpses, their hearts no longer feel   your sainthood is obvious on every starving face   youre deceptions given us a way to separate   the poor from their hate, the rich from the stone   genuflect away the sins that weve known   sure one percent rules, but heavens made of gold   so chalk it up to folly and consequence alone   do we really want do we really need a bastard messiah   wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean white washed desire   and every time the real wars defined, the trenches are filled to hide battle lines   torches to bridges and bridges to torture   headlines distort what we see as our borders   and what gives us the right to feel with remorse for a god they created   a god for the poor, for bathory were bleeding out the devil hides in angelic shrouds   blashphemy as speaking out weve asked for it for more of the same   sad scheme of ghettos created by the power elite, for our minds and souls burning   no longer for freedom invoked just more of the same