My eyes still see
the altar of pest and lie
to the illusory thing
with statue in the middle of the cross
crowds of a scared nations
pray for express of their sins
every nation to his altar
every nation to his statue
I don’t want to cleanse the worlds
consience talking with statue
I feel the pain so much
I worship you – infected heaven
I worship you – insensible dirt guns
I worship you – Gods on the statues
My heart is crushed to sandy pieces.
I don’t ever see
the emptiness of heaven so high
I trampl of real, feelings
I am not a God
but I see dying children
every day deformed
burnt like thin paper
Flames of my crying eyes
won’t burn the hell
all Gods are deception
and the world is still bleeding
