The Church Bizarre-Sabbat

The stage is set my friends for the play that never ends - Once you enter you are bound to find salvation by the pound, Assured the more you pay the nearer god you are. Your mouth so paralysed with fear you dare not speak, Your eyes so blind and hypnotised you cannot weep, So blinkered to reality that you no longer care, That profit is the prophet of corruption and despair. Bring on the dancers - bring on the clowns, Who invite you to ride on their merry-go-rounds, They make the money and they make the rules, You 'born-again-christians' are born again fools. [THE EVANGELIST PRAYER:] God of wealth and God of might guide me to your paradise, For many lives were bought and sold that I may walk your streets of gold, Though my heart is cold and still i rest In peace my pockets filled, And bear the smile of one who knows Through god's love my cup overflows. A 'salvation salesman's dream - Guillible to the extreme, Easy pickings for the charm and 'savoir faire', Of these charlatans and theives whose Delight is to decieve - all the fools who Still believe they really care. And if all the Devil's minions were let loose to do their will, I think they'd be hard pressed to match in diabolic skill, The wickedness and treachery of this evangelic horde, Who sheler their corruption with the banner of their lord. The curtain never falls on the show that has it all, Taken in you can't begin to see their lies, For the people who are clapping are the ones Who will be laughing at your fate, They just can't wait to bleed you dry