Those Who Lick the Wounds of Christ - Anata

Woe to the holy men

Who taste the sacred wine

You lick the wounds of Christ

The one of blessed memory

Through this you make him breathe

Though the candlelight is flickering

Relieving wind come sweep away

Devotion to his memory

One is the remedy

To let our souls fly free

One is the solution

To put all this to a final end

To end this misery

Let me spit into your face

And at the symbol of your feeble race

This is the symbol of your feeble race

This is just what he would preach

His kingdom is now out of reach

Pale utopia’s tragedy

I had a dream

That resembled of a dark past

An honorable ancestry

Of a time when weakness

Was no virtue more than prosperity

Awakening in cold sweat

Screaming with agony

Something must be done to end this pain

And one is the remedy

You are the clowns

You simple-minded misguided ones

In the name of God

In the name of insanity

Your ways are so pathetic

Your minds are so naive

You are the worm inside my veins

You make me sick with apathy