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Congress - Prayers (1995-blackened persistance) | Текст песни

I see they bring them to the slaughterhouse
- my heart bleeds.
I hear they rip their flesh apart
- to fulfill your needs.
Beautiful creations of godhead
- kill by human beasts.
And I will take this NO longer
- no more bloody feasts.

They pray on sundays for they may see the light.
To guide their footsteps on the path they tread.
They're sick of war
don't wanna fight.
and yet they gorse themselves upon the dead.

I try to make this clear to you
but you just can't see.
All these crime seem so normal.
To me they cannot be.

Your prayers aren't just to lighten your path.
They justify the greed you fulfill.
Instead of praying before you get your meal.
Better THINK about the way you kill.

They pray on sundays for they may see the light.
To guide their footsteps on the path they tread.
They're sick of war
don't wanna fight.
and yet they gorse themselves upon the dead.

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