The Mercy Seat Omnia

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Interpret sign and catalogue
A blackened tooth, a scarlet fog
The walls are bare, black, bottom kind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath gathering at my hind

I hear stories from the chamber
How Christ was born into a manger
And like some ragged stranger
Died upon the cross
And might I say it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at least that's what I'm told

My good hand tatooed E.V.I.L. all across it's brother's fist
That filthy five! They did nothing to challenge or resist

In Heaven His throne is made of gold
The ark of his Testament is stowed
A throne from which I'm told
All history does unfold
Down here it's made of wood and wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away