Sovereign

Does praying bring a cure to your fear?
 And did it improve your pitiful existence?
 Don't you feel you are making yourself a part of the weakest kind?
 So you have chosen to be a slave, maybe stupid, maybe blind...
 We deny the elite, leaders of the weak
 No god we will fear, no cross we will lick
 Creating our own rules, we follow no book
 The truth is not written, so I draw it up with your blood.
 Wake up, or die by your own hand
 Those who are born slaves have just one way to be saved
 Burn it, the effigy of Christ
 Deny this book that has filled your mind with lies
 Anger let your heart breathe at last
 Freedom in our kingdom you will taste
 Burn it the effigy of Christ
 Deny the holy book of lies.
 We have no masters, all sovereigns
 And we spit on the illegitimate rules
 We follow none but our own will
 We have not chosen to live in fear of
 The idol of weakness, a corpse on a cross
 The bastard son of a chimerical god will never lead us
 Eternally blinded by the odious masquerade
 You dance on the music which leads you to your grave.
 Your allegiance has destroyed all your willpower
 I see in you a caricature of existence, the tortures of freedom
 Now you are nothing, just the puppet of an illusion
 Slave of nothingness, worshipper of lies.
 When I see you celebrating the bereavement of reason
 When I hear ypour pathetic sob which sound resounds in the night
 When I smell your disgusting terror of death, terror of life
 When I feel the powerful feebleness which oozes out of your being.
 Hate becomes my mistress, the autocrat of my heart
 I dream of destruction, I wish your mutilation
 Wake up, or die by your own hand
 Those who are born slaves have just one way to be saved
 Hate becomes my mistress, the autocrat of my heart
 We prefer damnation, rather submission
 So we choose blasphemy as our way of life
 Slaves of weakness, we will never let in.