For the record I must say
It's sad ti see you all pray
All pray your lives away

When in reality
Why should we believe in something we can't see?
A mockery, Orchestrating hypocrisy

Oh the irony!
Open up your eyes and
There you go pointing your fingers at me

You burn it in and out of humanity
Now you see thoes clergy eat better then you and me
They tour amongst the shores with stouthearted feet

Trade stigma, ad harlots
Golden letters, leather-bound looks
Fight with fire and throwing stones our world it sheds

When our river runs red
We'll never know where we'll go
'Till there's a crutch to call home

We'll never know...