| Foetus god descends in silence |
| a bastard deity for us to believe |
| blasphemy of gen collage |
| in backward sombre involution |
| Foetus god abortion of the Diine |
| latent rape of wet, lewd womb |
| man-made myth to blunt in mind |
| the vilest offence of five senses |
| Undone miracles never to come |
| invalid rise of slave thought |
| the only light its dawn can shed |
| is from burnt wisdom and shimmering greed |
| Thine is not the Kingdom |
| no trace of strength I see |
| no Mercy to expect |
| a seed of claws upon your lips |
| As pure wit turns into effusions |
| we, snakes of Truth, ex and devour |
| gods manifested in twisted images |
| astrally hunted in shadow and soul |
| Sweet holy shiftless godsend meat |
| I bet you listen to this psalm of me |
| Sweet holy shiftless godsend meat |
| I bet you listen to this psalm of me |
| little by little, one by one |
| the thorns become the real crown |
| Thine is not the Kingdom |
| no trace of strength I see |
| no Mercy to expect |
| a seed of claws upon your lips |
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