Bathory's Sainthood

Do you feel alive now Now that you own the dead Preying on the corpses Their hearts no longer fed Your sainthood is obvious on every starving face Your deception gives us A way to separate The poor from the hate The rich from the stone Genuflect away the sins that we've known Sure one percent rules, but heaven's made of gold Chalk it up to folly and consequences 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 war's defined The trenches are filled to hide battle lines Torches to bridges and bridges to torture Headlines distort what we see as our borders What gives us the right to feel with remorse For a god they created A god for the poor Do we really want do we really need A bastard messiah Wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean White washed desire 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 souls Burning no longer for freedom invoked More of the same Do we really want do we really need Bastard messiahs Wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean White washed desire Your sainthood is obvious on every starving face Your deception's given us a way to separate Do you feel alive now Now that you own the dead More of the same ...