The Spirit of Heathendom
You're calling a phantom your wise, loving father Who had formed your forebears out of clay I think that your brains still consist of this substance Or what else is the reason that your minds went astray? You think, Earth's been granted your supreme dominion And you might reap it of everything it can give If you are interested in my solemn opinion Scavengers like you have no reason to live! Our Mother was a woman of ravishing beauty But for womanliness you have nothing to spare In return for bearing more and more of you bastards You rape her again after stripping her bare You enslaved Mother Earth to act at your bidding And scoured it from dangerous heretics like me I am sick of you scum and I'm surely not kidding Mother's suffering from a plague called Christianity You are nothing but pityful creatures With your God residing in Heavenly Halls But right here on Earth elder spirits are lurking Awaiting the time for the crosses to fall Morrigan, Avenger Life's reaper, Death's crow Bean-Nighe who washes The severed heads of our foes Bad our mother Let fertility grow! Maturity's triad In eternity adored You deny on what all life is still founded Which is love, lustful longing and sensuous joy You prefer children born by a chaste, modest virgin That they're products of lust, you stubbornly deny But still you are haunted by natureborn cravings And as each woman of grace is a devilsent slut You rather rape children as a kind, loving father Go to Hell if you don't mind, cause I hate your guts! Your Lord's bursting from mercy and positive feelings With disgust you regard those who feel anger and hate You wage war out of love for the ignorant heathen To save their souls from the devil, before it's too late I thank you for taking my life in your hands How grateful I am I simply can't tell But still I prefer the wild ways of the heathen Even though in your eyes, I'll be burning in Hell First you've stolen our festivals sacred Then your oppressive belief had grown tall But right here on Earth, elder spirits are lurking Awaiting the time for the crosses to fall Underneath the Horns, they feast and dance and sing again To the woods the laughter will return For the powers of Earth and Fire, Wind and Rain Instead of stakes, the Pagan fires shall burn
Written by: Goat of Mendes
Lyrics © DistroKid
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