I am the rack

on which my saviour bleeds and cries

with nails through hands and feet

those bitter tears received with greed



Not to speak of the Blood

to be seen in streams on his head

from under a crown of thorns

the sinful human to drown



Bleed on me

Bleed me sore

The seed is sowed to Hell with the creed



The shame of deepest guilt

on which the whorehouse is built

No glory before paying the whore

No glory until her lust is stilled



Better Off Burning

Better Off Burning



Land of the saviour

by souls bestowed

Forgiveness shall dwell

in the heart of good behaviour



In time

our future meets the past

no more time to climb the heavens

this century shall be the last



In time

salvation will let go of me

No longer shall mankind avoid the fire

In eternal prayer ro retire