Falsifications in the name of proselytization, 
Imagine the crime, and they'll find a justification, 
We have worked ourselves into this oblivion, 
Where we discard our children, and ignore the opinion, 
Of anything that threatens to stop our endless devouring generational machine. 

Cause on Judgement Day, 
We look our best this way, 
Looking from a cross, 
At a loss, what to say. 

We always try to take more then what we need, 
And now the gates are falling down, 
We are all getting ready for the flood, let's drown, 
Is this world worth saving, 
Or will the gods their justice for us misbehaving. 

Sip the cup, taste the blood, 
We were always one with the mud, 
Put on the cloak, wear the hood, 
Get ready to summon the ancient flood, 
For we all return to the sea of Flesh, 
Where the gods plucked us from the depths fresh, 
From the dark and murky place in abyss, 
Our life was breathed with a divine kiss, 
Part of design, we were all from behind, 
The veil of the Void of the grand design. 

Burning up as you hit the clouds, 
Your bountifulness was never abound, 
Will your temples scatter like the crows, 
Under the weight of what you just don't know, 
Wallow in your pit, covet the truth, 
Cause underneath your skin is a sleuth, 
The tricksters wrath diminishes consent, 
For on judgement day we cannot have descent.