To some it is salvation
To others it is hell
To all it is the will
Of the anointed one
Two thousand year old struggle
In which we have been locked
The day the Nazarene
Declared himself the rock

He descends from the blackened skies
To where in the hell which we lie
To lord his triumph o'er death
We wait with baited breath

A madman on his throne
A sinner unto his own
Kiss the ring of sodomy
And seal them in their homes
This yoke you call tradition
Slips tight around your throat

It has driven us to madness
And others to the goat
We ascend into the sky
From where in hell which we lie
It's is no use to call him a liar
When you're cast into the lake of fire