Оригинальный текст
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Obcene machine
Of martyr's pain
Of prophet's time
Deadly reign
The godded fool
Carries the cross
Of guilty loss
Iron nailed
Jailed, impaled
Now, his son deceased
Their wails increased
They shrewdly cried:
For your sins he died
Upon our guilt
The temples were built
Obscene machine
Upon life they did feast
And named themselves appointed priests
In white and wealth of gold
But crimson bleeds through
This blood will do
Obscene machine
(repeat first verse)
