Atman - Martyrs, Blasphemizers And The Sick lyrics

Martyrs, Blasphemizers and the Sick

fruits of thy collective madness

murderous legends and passions without reason

Inferior beings

that before thy ignorance

adore a god

that giveth thee the strength to survive

Living in a full material plane

that every day weareth the way

Thy ignorance maketh blood to flow

Children of the Flesh

Swine! what fault was it of mine

that in no god I did believe

Consecrated temples

loaded down with gold

Open the doors for the world

show thy hidden library

prove that god does not exist

and that everything is a farce

Blaze a trail within thy brains

draw learning from within thyselves

come to know the Astral Plane

come to know there is no god

Starving Scabs!

Rot in the hell created by thy souls

‘cause catch me thou shall not

I’m outside

I’m out of thy reach

Thy faith is thy prison and defeat

I, from here, will put and end

to the foulness of religion

Swine!