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 ...