Bits of my guns are covered in blood   This town turned its back on the sun   Now they will see how swift judgement can be   Compared to a life on the run      Holy, the face of God appears to be   Holy, the face of God appeared to me      Another city glazed, carelessly placed   Withered and waiting for trial   And now we will see how swift judgement can be   When compared to a life of denial      Holy, the face of God appears to be   Holy, Mother Mary let them all die   Slowly, hold me in your arms and please   Console me, forgive what I've done   I'm your son, please don't send me to Hell      These visions you see   They're not what they seem   Even a God can be wrong   This Virgin of peace   Is down on her knees   Begging for Death to move on      Holy, the face of God appears to be   Holy, Mother Mary, let them all die   Slowly, hold me in your arms, appease them   Solely, forgive what I've done   I'm your son, please don't send me to Hell      Please don't send me to Hell, oh no