Souls Of The Dead

A crystal clear, cleansing, single flame
Must come to burn our ball of shame
It brings us peace, so the souls
of the dead
Can finally have their glory

The dead that have seen everything
Death on a cross and every war

Brothers and sisters that may have lost
And children left all alone

They've seen babies eyes excavated
The scar of death on the starving
whirlpools of a million tears
Blood on the crosses of
Nameless graves

They know you well soaked
through by blood
A killing soldier of Jesus

Holding a cross and murdering at will
Your soul is caressed by a
Crown of thorns

They see you falling upon your knees
They see you make the sign of
the cross
They know you're ready to kill
Everyone falls into disgrace