Circle Of Dead Children - Sunday's Agenda lyrics

rate me

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