Lyrics A Perfect Circle

A Perfect Circle

The Doomed

Behold a new Christ

Behold the same old horde

Gather at the altering

New beginning, new word

And the word was death

And the word was without light

The new beatitude:

"Good luck, you're on your own"

Blessed are the fornicates

May we bend down to be their whores

Blessed are the rich

May we labour, deliver them more

Blessed are the envious

Bless the slothful, the wrathful, the vain

Blessed are the gluttonous

May they feast us to famine and war

What of the pious, the pure of heart, the peaceful?

What of the meek, the mourning, and the merciful?

All doomed

All doomed

Behold a new Christ

Behold the same old horde

Gather at the altering

New beginning, new word

And the word was death

And the word was without light

The new beatitude:

"Good luck..."

What of the pious, the pure of heart, the peaceful?

What of the meek, the mourning, and the merciful?

What of the righteous?

What of the charitable?

What of the truthful, the dutiful, the decent?

Doomed are the poor

Doomed are the peaceful

Doomed are the meek

Doomed are the merciful

For the word is now death

And the word is now without light

The new beatitude:

"Fuck the doomed, you're on your own"