I bow down your precious icon, deity of self suppression This effigy of flesh, corporeal christi, nailed In submission to this false idol, seeking deliverance From this spiritual hierarchy, downward spiralling, a corrupt throne Of repression and guilt
Our will be done Thy kingdom burn
On my knees, before this tormented flesh, in irreverence In communion with this parasitic host of virtuous divinity This imperious creed bears testament to the failures of our morality Righteous durance is our cross we bear in stations In stations of the lost
Our will be done Thy kingdom burn - thy kingdom burn Our will be done
From your knees arise By your own hand, your god you scribe The earth shall inherit the meek Your god is dead
(Lead - Amott)
Bound down, in God we're trussed, foul stature Icons embodied in flesh, we nail In servitude to deities fashioned in our self image Shadows of eternal strife cast by those who serve Serve a crown of pawns