do you feel alive now, now that you own the dead   preying on their corpses, their hearts no longer fed   your sainthood is obvious on every starving face   your deception's given us a away to separate   the poor from their hate, the rich from the stone   genuflect away the sins that we've known   sure one percent rules, but heaven's made of gold   so chalk it up to folly and consequence alone   do we really want do we reaaly need a bastard messiah   wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean white washed desire   and everytime the real war's defined, the trenches are filed to hide battle lines   torches to bridges and bridges to torches   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 we're bleeding out the devil hides in angelic shrouds   blasphemy as speaking out we've asked for it for more of the same   sad scheme of ghettos created by the power elite, for our minds and soul burning   no longer for freedom invoked just more of the same