What madness have you seen?
Horrors you witnessed that are just obscene?
You have nightmares before you sleep.
And you have secrets that you'll always keep.
And every time you lay still, like that old grand piano.
And with the silence of serenity, dawns this eerie disturbing amenity.
Soak into these scars you monster.
Drain into the world that your after.
You want to keep silent? You heathen!
You refuse to speak out? You heretic!
Wrap the lens, fade out the sound.
Prey on the weak and hold your ground.
Distort the sound, reflect the lens.
Wash your hands in innocent blood.
Wipe your hands in young blood and cleanse.
(Bow my child)
A doctrine for the end times to save your soul.
(Stay my child)
A doctrine for the end times to curse us all.
You've hidden behind these holy walls.
You pray to any God to hide you.
Fresh clean meat to tenderise, to butcher.
Flexing your arms like a puppeteer.
They are the river, you are the rain.
They are the needles, you are the pain.
They are the figures, you are the shadows.
They are the roots and you are the meadow.
(Bow my child)
A doctrine for the end times to save your soul.
(Stay my child)
A doctrine for the end times to curse us all.
(With silent words, we move)
(Out of sight, out of mind)
(Even at our best, we failed)
(We can no longer pretend)
(I feel the pressure arrive)
(How can we still resist?)
(Hold your hand out towards mine)
(For I still see you through the mist)
(Let our bodies entwine)
(The dance of death is so divine)
(Become this fragmented memory of mine)
(The last doctrine enshrined for the end times)
Horrors you witnessed that are just obscene?
You have nightmares before you sleep.
And you have secrets that you'll always keep.
And every time you lay still, like that old grand piano.
And with the silence of serenity, dawns this eerie disturbing amenity.
Soak into these scars you monster.
Drain into the world that your after.
You want to keep silent? You heathen!
You refuse to speak out? You heretic!
Wrap the lens, fade out the sound.
Prey on the weak and hold your ground.
Distort the sound, reflect the lens.
Wash your hands in innocent blood.
Wipe your hands in young blood and cleanse.
(Bow my child)
A doctrine for the end times to save your soul.
(Stay my child)
A doctrine for the end times to curse us all.
You've hidden behind these holy walls.
You pray to any God to hide you.
Fresh clean meat to tenderise, to butcher.
Flexing your arms like a puppeteer.
They are the river, you are the rain.
They are the needles, you are the pain.
They are the figures, you are the shadows.
They are the roots and you are the meadow.
(Bow my child)
A doctrine for the end times to save your soul.
(Stay my child)
A doctrine for the end times to curse us all.
(With silent words, we move)
(Out of sight, out of mind)
(Even at our best, we failed)
(We can no longer pretend)
(I feel the pressure arrive)
(How can we still resist?)
(Hold your hand out towards mine)
(For I still see you through the mist)
(Let our bodies entwine)
(The dance of death is so divine)
(Become this fragmented memory of mine)
(The last doctrine enshrined for the end times)