Past the charred pines lies the uninviting future
These stinky spit holes were your eyes
Now there’s nothing left to prove
You caught me in a state of bliss
In Black July, observing ruins
Sour blood dripping
Tell the boys to clean this mess
The abyss deepening
Bodies melt in hospitals
Sour blood won’t dry
Wash your face in the holy river
The skies split above
And the innocent start screaming
Can’t shake off your smell
As I call another witness
Rivulets of tainted semen form the map of future days
Your distorted face floats above the holy river
Past the phallic minarets crosses rise like giant creatures
Raped before Crist
Flayed before Crist