Twisted

You breed malice into your pews

Like death you never have enough

Spewing your poison

over the four corners of the world

You're twisted in knots

pouring salt in every wound

Spewing your poison

like seeds of discontent

Flaunting your hate

as a means of backwards religion

Hell is not low enough to contain your depravity

Hell is not low enough to truly describe where you're heading

Your mouth is a festering wound

Never shut long enough to heal

Like death you never have enough

So your thirst will be quenched

It's just a matter of time before you beg due recompense

All the hate you spew will not save you before them

Death you never have enough

Like death you never have enough

Fall to your knees

Your redeemer's robes won't save you

and even your rules betray you

You breed malice into your pews

and make them suffer under your abuse

You breed malice into your pews

Like death you never have enough

Fall to your knees, Pharisee

and burn

Your mouth is a festering wound

Never shut long enough to heal

Like death you never have enough

So your thirst will be quenched

It's just a matter of time before you beg due recompense

All the hate you spew will not save you before them

Depart froM me for I never knew you