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letra de preacher ii - cultist

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i
i lift my hands to the sky
you lift your hands to my pockets
leaving children to die
dare i say you are godless

lie
to avoid provocation
we were saved from d-mnation
but you’re worried for your
condemned reputation
h-ll awaits below
god’s more concerned saving souls
not whether or not you’re living your best life wasting his breath on solid gold

embrace your heresy
dispose of the ones who oppose
there blood stains on your hands
wiping down your precious throne

embrace your heresy
dispose of the ones who oppose
do you know who we stand before
on the day he calls us home

torn from the snares of all love
you make a terrible god
unwilling to share the gold
that the devil spent on you
torn from love
let them take me
left in a puddle of blood
left with the stench of death

get your prosperity out of my face
your virtues are sold
replaced with dead weight
you sold souls to the devil for cash
will you flee from the coming wrath
come face your sins heretic
your best life is weak and pathetic
twist the truth and blaspheme against the king
it won’t be long till the final trumpets ring

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