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All their heroes are dead inside

I watch them wither and cower in mind

The sewer dwellers need their cellar

A sanctuary for the blind

Invert the cross

I know it, doesn’t make you Satanic

Hail the goat, or so you say

Ambiguous anyway

Invert the cross

I know it, doesn’t make you Satanic

Theistic life, that you know

Spurn all gods, reap what you sow

The vicious cycle that never ends

Form a new gang again and again

Same old story with inflated glory

Revert to the sewer never to transcend

Spurn all gods

Reap what you sow