Rotten Eclipse

Rotten eclipse
Oozing on me
Apocalypse
Herded like sheep
Nocturnal red
Fills the night sky
Your god is dead
Heard them all cry

Possessed city
You poor bastards
Hand fed pity
Control masters
Misguided birth
It's all you know
What is your worth
What can you show

You sorry fools
Have you no shame
Used like a tool
For the pope's gain
It's all a scam
Face the damn facts
A paid program
But without tax

The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits

The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
The prophets steal your profits
And you fucking let them



Credits
Writer(s): Eamon Crowe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link