Nothing to do when it rains in Spain,
Falling mainly on the lands of prophets
Wandering aimlessly toward their destined
Holy temple of hypocrisy.
The children of a thousand ages
Await the perfect moment to reveal the true design
Of existence on the battlefield of martyrdom.
Faith wasn't always blind they say,
Her eyes bled for humanity until they were drained of all life
For her sorrow, mankind must now follow blindly
At the heels of our masters, our makers, and fellow sinners.
Pennance is the choke chain around our necks,
Ready and waiting to deprive
Our weary forms of life
When we fuck up.
And yet we know not what we do,
For faith my friends is blind.
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