[Verse 1]
Daily I used to get high and look up at the sky and wonder
Always was a frantic fellow with the lazy eye to wander
Wonder where I would have been abide in sin to slide and falter
Fall in to the need to seek forgiveness right beside the altar
With the weakened hand I count the knots as I recite the psalter
As the time gets nigh the days get shorter and the nights get longer
Pray to walk the narrow gate that I don't sway and I don't sauntеr
Praises to the one abovе on high you grant the might in power
Evil you will stand and fight for nothing or you hide and cower
Enemies get leveled my projected pain inside devour
Death is at the masters hand as meteors collide and shower
Those who spar against the Christly kingdom in the final hour
Spirit cast in swine to trawl the mountainside and jump right off it
Cursed vineyards make for rotten grapes and so the wine is sour
He may know them by the wretched fruits of what they try to offer
Enemies of Jesus Christ the lord is all who I must conquer
[Chorus]
With the devotion ever darkened from within the martyrs' shadow
Hallowed be the haunted high in heaven where the graves are shallow
With the crushing weight of fate of moth and rust and dust and metal
Waiting for the sweet release of death under the Mazzatello
[Verse 2]
Father nostrum gave you black colostrum from the teat of magic
Unbeknownst the branded hexagram beneath his tattered habit
Rose a sign of times of hymns to come beyond the mind's expansion
And of Babylon's affectionate embrace and buried talents
Had a quick communion with the Judas there and shared the chalice
In the throws of agony, the heretic will suffer hapless
As the great pathologist above bestow the final judgment of the papal throne and of the parasites inside the palace
Daily I used to get high and look up at the sky and wonder
Always was a frantic fellow with the lazy eye to wander
Wonder where I would have been abide in sin to slide and falter
Fall in to the need to seek forgiveness right beside the altar
With the weakened hand I count the knots as I recite the psalter
As the time gets nigh the days get shorter and the nights get longer
Pray to walk the narrow gate that I don't sway and I don't sauntеr
Praises to the one abovе on high you grant the might in power
Evil you will stand and fight for nothing or you hide and cower
Enemies get leveled my projected pain inside devour
Death is at the masters hand as meteors collide and shower
Those who spar against the Christly kingdom in the final hour
Spirit cast in swine to trawl the mountainside and jump right off it
Cursed vineyards make for rotten grapes and so the wine is sour
He may know them by the wretched fruits of what they try to offer
Enemies of Jesus Christ the lord is all who I must conquer
[Chorus]
With the devotion ever darkened from within the martyrs' shadow
Hallowed be the haunted high in heaven where the graves are shallow
With the crushing weight of fate of moth and rust and dust and metal
Waiting for the sweet release of death under the Mazzatello
[Verse 2]
Father nostrum gave you black colostrum from the teat of magic
Unbeknownst the branded hexagram beneath his tattered habit
Rose a sign of times of hymns to come beyond the mind's expansion
And of Babylon's affectionate embrace and buried talents
Had a quick communion with the Judas there and shared the chalice
In the throws of agony, the heretic will suffer hapless
As the great pathologist above bestow the final judgment of the papal throne and of the parasites inside the palace
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