We should have let Sean burn down Brackenstown
Because then the priests would be petrified
Of a twelve year old brat child
Who refused the body of Christ

When we’re done with the men
We’re coming for the gods
The saints and evangelicals will be found and then lost

I want to see,
Where do they go when they’re bowed in prayer
Bloody cotton mouths and infrared radars
I need to know
How do you glow out all other flares
The invitation to madness turns crosses square

In the black of the night only greasy glades in my sight
Battery powered words and a badly loaded gun to lead up anything that bites
Scent of the wine
Stenches my mind

When we’re done with the men
We’re coming for the gods
The saints and evangelicals will be killed and then tossed

I want to see,
Where do they go when they’re bowed in prayer
Bloody cotton mouths and infrared radars
I need to know
How do you glow out all other flares
The invitation to madness turns crosses square

Infrared radars pools of blood that we devour
Holes in the moon and comet showers
Pace of something insane
Target on God and barrel on brain