Paroles de (Mother May I) Burn the Heretic

Gilded cross upon the alter, An icon of your sad god. You mourn your savior Breadth of weakness, An honourless deity Mine is a godless honour, Yours a godly wonder A mortal god is no god, But a man in guise A foolish weakling, who under heavens cries My religion has no faith, I push the envelope every day. My meditation stupefies the simpleton. I make life, I break life and warp it to my will I culture the likes of Man And what displeases me ends up in the... Can Mother, will these fools not learn? Mother, will these fools not learn? They mortify my soul. You were here before he; An impostor in a jester suit Crawling, and begging Man must grow strong, Fitness is the only virtue A mortal god is no god, but a man in guise, I am man, I am mortal, I am god My meditation is salvation [sadly] Bow down peons, I have arrived Your living god shall save you Mother, they have not learned May I burn the heretics?