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Lyrics

I dreamt, I dreamed the Nazarene
gored him in the dead of night
the body of a broken wife
she was left standing there clean

Her lack of clothes, her mannequin pose
it was all elected pain
weak attempts to hide the shame
now it's the only thing that shows

The holy wars the prophecies' whore
Mystery, the mothers name
a cup of gold the blood of saints
scarlet beast from the ocean floor

I looked upon a sky that boasts
anger for the fruit of wombs
Jackals crying in their tombs
Fury fit for the nations' hosts

The scalpel blade, the liar sage
cut the fattened like a calf
but seven trumpets clear a path
peals of thunder burn an empty cage