The idiot box sings my tunes today,
Dancing stars and grainy images,
Words that don’t mean what they say,
My stars, you should burn with sages

For centuries, illusionists built shrines,
Tombs and tomes that tell of medieval tales,
Hah! Come forth and tell them now!
The ignorant chooses to ignore you,
And the naive will desert their faith for you,
A congregation of folly-minded beings

A black figure stands before me,
Darkness shrouds every corners, tonight I am alone,
The owls hoot from swaying trees,
The cloaks emit depths of despair,
Fiery red eyes, ***** of fire in a heated night,
The thin bony fingers rise up to me,
His lips move, “The hounds of hell await you!”
The fingers wrap around my arms,
“The rest you had, will be the last you ever had”

Dragged through the walls of shame,
Chains bind these hands that hit and hid many more,
Ropes cut through flesh that tasted many forbidden pleasures,
Spikes pierce through the eyes that saw sin,
I am paraded for the pleasure of the unholy souls,
Tonight, they dance in their graves,
Today, the stars burned with their saints,
Tomorrow, all that you knew is no longer true.