Saviors robed in cloaks of blood
Eucharist in mouth
Hand in the basket
Arms in hand
Deaths in vain
Politicians' observe us through stained glass
Demagogues and bureaucrats are at Sunday's service
Your god is selling your life
Your god is buying my liberty
Politics kiss the Vatican
Pope encased in plastic while his missionaries fall to mortar and gunfire

All in the name of the Nothing
This Sunday has no agenda for you
Theology is war
Death is insignificant
All gray matter is ash
Myths are preached
The basket is empty
The bodies are buried
And at the end of the tunnel your soul remains unsaved

Sunday's Agenda Lyrics

CIRCLE OF DEAD CHILDREN