this touch is pure ordained from the highest order above through the shadow of the needle's eye of my own camelot glow mammon gushes at my offering of stillborn hope rotting within me devouring youth while my millstone rings hollow enter my temple where the cleric begets swine purity is rape and salvation is genocide your home is a grave spare no children spare no one savage heathen will conform to the sanctity of life (sweet flesh) sweep the soil clear of the cradle boards vital and ripe for siege and blight (sweet animal flesh) traded the manitou for the goldmine through the cracks in the stained glass I can see a dancing ghost of atrocity through the hanging tomb inverted spectacles of torment without the veil of the unfurled flag I see slaughter-bound human freight in waiting lashes upon the back inverted brand upon the chest lord knows I have a pale glow I can't just take off my halo even as I stand on your grave it's still a master and a slave The land is cleared to stack my house of cards my ossuary palace reduced to shards there voices fall upon deaf ears on the the side of the veil buried by law from Wounded Knee To Warsaw they saw a prismatic justice awaits us all the only reparation is reclamation spare no children spare no one