Heavenly Scared So

Pacing in front of your meek congregation
 Licking your lips in lofty oration
 You sharpen your claws, enforcing the laws
 And the lies of eternal salvation
 To keep them in line while you do your deceiving
 You threaten the souls of the blind and believing
 The Lord will forgive, if, as long as they live
 They spend their days guilty and grieving
 Silver crosses, your drying palm
 Tokens of the trade
 For giving them their sins, you calm
 Souls upon which you've preyed
 You swing across and hypnotize
 To punctuate your spell
 With the cross you tease and dot their eyes
 And sentence them to hell
 Obsessed with controlling how others should be
 You spread the disease of the Heavenly Three
 Your book is your blade in this selfish crusade
 And you're pointing it's pages at me
 You make up the rules and happily brandish the list
 Forbidding your people the pleasures by which they exist
 Confessing the sins of their bodies' natural behavior
 They punish themselves in the name of your saccharine savior