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You mark me an idolater |
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Heathen, pagan, fetishist |
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You don't see a human being |
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But a barbaric Antichrist |
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Safe inside your ivory tower |
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Of holiness and intolerance |
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Trapped inside a maze of lies |
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Such pathetic arrogance |
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What makes your god the only god and mine revolting pagan idols? |
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What makes your altar a sacred place and mine a scene of horrible rites? |
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You eat your god you cannibal so why don't you look at yourself |
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Your god a carpenter nailed to wood if that's not an idol then what is? |
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You don't really believe your lies, deep down human you are still |
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You need your holy fantasy but strength not from within brings chains |
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You are created in the image of your god but do you think that he grows old? |
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You claim you talk to your god but do you think the almighty listens? |
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My gods are so different |
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They are in my blood |
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They do not enslave me |
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Like your tyrant god |
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My gods are companions |
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On the solitary path called life |
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They come when I call |
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Support me in my strife |
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I hail to them in my glory |
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Entrust them with my pain |
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Call them graven images |
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Your proselytism is in vain |