Anata

Those Who Lick The Wounds Of Christ

Anata


Woe to the holy men 
Who taste the sacred wine 
You lick the wounds of Christ 
The one of blessed memory 

Through this you make him breathe 
Though the candlelight is flickering 
Relieving wind come sweep away 
Devotion to his memory 

One is the remedy 
To let our souls fly free 
One is the solution 
To put all this to a final end 
To end this misery 
Let me spit into your face 
And at the symbol of your feeble race 
This is the symbol of your feeble race 
This is just what he would preach 
His kingdom is now out of reach 
Pale utopia's tragedy 

I had a dream 
That resembled of a dark past 
An honorable ancestry 
Of a time when weakness 
Was no virtue more than prosperity 
Awakening in cold sweat 
Screaming with agony 
Something must be done to end this pain 
And one is the remedy 
You are the clowns 
You simple-minded misguided ones 
In the name of God 
In the name of insanity 
Your ways are so pathetic 
Your minds are so naive 
You are the worm inside my veins 
You make me sick with apathy