The Desecrator Fit for an Autopsy (Ft. Tim Williams (Vocalist))

Forgive me father for I have sinned
Taken the life of a man who stole the innocence from the unprotected
A storm of light, a jarring revelation
A right of passage, justified fucking bloodshed
No forgiveness, heaven denied
No restitution, rightful conviction
Hell embraces the patron saint with all its wrath

Distorting the lines of your selfish redemption
To exalt your final resting place in heaven
Lecherous impurity, the towers of the holy conceal their ill intentions
The godless apostle trembles in the wake of the coming fire

The stones of the great hall crumbling will forever echo with the choirs of the fallen man
Soaked in the lies
The blood of the divine
Flowing like rivers, in waves of soiled wines
Crushed by the tide
The blood of the divine rains down on chapels built to fall by design

Forgive me father, I seek no atonement
No sympathy for a man who stands as a burning effigy of betrayal
A storm of light, a jarring revelation
A right of passage
Justified fucking bloodshed
No forgiveness heaven denied
No restitution, rightful conviction
Hell embraces the patron saint with all its wrath