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Pacing in front of your meek congregation Licking your lips in lofty oration You sharpen your claws, enforcing the laws And the lies of eternal salvation To keep them in line while you do your deceiving You threaten the souls of the blind and believing The Lord will forgive, if, as long as they live They spend their days guilty and grieving Silver crosses, your drying palm Tokens of the trade For giving them their sins, you calm Souls upon which you've preyed You swing across and hypnotize To punctuate your spell With the cross you tease and dot their eyes And sentence them to hell Obsessed with controlling how others should be You spread the disease of the Heavenly Three Your book is your blade in this selfish crusade And you're pointing its pages at me You make up the rules and happily brandish the list Forbidding your people the pleasures by which they exist Confessing the sins of their bodies' natural behavior They punish themselves in the name of your saccharine savior Aus Songtexte Mania