| - Daveoramma, X |
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One by one the links are made, From your soul into a chain, Around the world and across the sea, Far underground they're fullfilling me. In God we trust, or so I'm told, For a moment's pleasure my soul is sold, I reached my hand out to the Lord, But my salvation I could not afford. CHORUS Look at the church, Look at the steeple, Where they're burning books, They're burning people. The leaders are as pure as snow, Representing the God we know, We have learned to idolize, Those touched by God right before our eyes. We give them our last breath, To protect us from the touch of death, Crucify for fun and profit, Touch the hand of God if you can afford it. CHORUS Look at the church, Look at the steeple, Where they're burning books, They're burning people. |