The thought of love triggers lonely hearts
Gladly reaching out just to be a part
So we live to serve, made it into an art
The thought of love triggers lonely hearts
Gladly reaching out just to be a part
So we live to serve, made it into an art
How shallow the soul
How deep the fear
How grave the hunger
To get out of here
Fear and hate keeps us in line
As we climb crosses of our own design
Nails in our flesh, hammers in our minds
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Feels like I've got
Judas' heart
Dawkins' head
Praise the lord
God is Dead
All the brahmin masses they'll come back again
They've got lord Krsna to guide their hand
Gotama's flock they don't mind the chains
They know nirvana will end their pain
And the Avestan pupils, the forsakers of druj
They'll be one with the maker when they're one with the truth
All of Luther's children gladly suffer now
They'll get pie in the sky on the day they die
But what about me
Got no soul to sell
Refused salvation
Did my time in hell
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No absolution, no alibis
Just belief and doubt and then we die
We furnish the void with our attempts at lives
I got
Judas' Heart
Nietzsche's soul
Dawkins' cock
In a god-shaped hole
How shallow the soul
How deep the fear
How grave the need
there's just one way out of here