Pik

Slave of plastic statuettes

Pik
Closed monastery
Impassable heavy gates, you inside
They get out to be a slave
Of jealous might
They pumped your brain with falseness
And punishments
Monks are singing and waiting for sign
From the majestic altar
But the sign will never come
Couse god is afraid of the truth
Celebrate of mass praying to the dead
Statuettes
Those echoes bites slowly into your
Crushed mind
And you're lyng like a cross without
Will - painful torture
I'm sure that satan knows the truth
Who was the god in his flying throne
I'm sure that satan hears the lies
Mutters by sages from the pulpits
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