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To Desecrate

from Trauma by Rise of Tyrants

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lyrics

You preach poverty while your gown is red
by the blood of the creatures your god says he loves.
Your dirty lair, improperly torn in the middle of the eternal city,
is the sign of your absolute control on the weak souls, raped by your pathetic promises.
The pain seed two thousand years ago your bastard fathers had planted and growed with blood, is now ready to fade.

Villain, dirty rapist pedophile,
with which cussed desire do you take your old sheeps to young pastures?
Is it maybe for the umpteenth time a wish of your creator?
Or is it the habit of a poor moron sublimed by gold and devotion of your fanatic proselytes?

The mithria, the pallium and the veil, everything burns.

You preach poverty while your gown is red
by the blood of the creatures your god says he loves.
New innocent lives without choice eclipsed by corrupted voices.
Ancient homicides buried under tons of lies
False hope of eternal salvation sold to desperate people.

The white altars and the gold thrones crumbling away into dust
Now belivers' worship is rust.

credits

from Trauma, released February 3, 2014

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Rise of Tyrants Bergamo, Italy

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