Signs of the Wicked

The murder ya heard of, you think the obscured from the mind of the sickened. The evil referred to.

Infest in the crevice, the best of the zealots,

it's the function you seek, it's the way that they sell its,

Candles, and sage, purity, cleansing.

It's the words that are twisted, your soul that's pretending.

I come to relieve all the false gods and prophets.

The clergy who care to fill only church pockets.

The signs of the wicked, their voices are stricken,

By collars of white, their labels conflicting.

With words that they teach, falsehood of the fleece,

Hate, blame, and greed are the labels they preach.

But I'm here to grant you the opportunity of release.

No contracts in blood, no bindings, nor lease.

Have you fallen so blindly, your tongue has no prescence.

You worship and follow, the unrighteous of peasants.