To some it is salvation

To others it is hell

To all it is the will

Of the anointed one

Two thousand year old struggle

In which we have been locked

The day the Nazarene

Declared himself the rock


He descends from the blackened skies

To where in the hell which we lie

To lord his triumph o'er death

We wait with baited breath


A madman on his throne

A sinner unto his own

Kiss the ring of sodomy

And seal them in their homes

This yoke you call tradition

Slips tight around your throat


It has driven us to madness

And others to the goat

We ascend into the sky

From where in hell which we lie

It's is no use to call him a liar

When you're cast into the lake of fire