The Prophecy

Cursed you are to rot, laying in your graves Damned you will be 'till the final dawn The sound of the hammer Blood on the nails Thorns on your head Beg for your life Laughing at the sight of the Virgin's bloody tears Amazing disaster on your Jesus' last fears The prophecy fulfilled, now you have to kneel Before the Darkness Chasing the Christians into their dreams They will never sleep again Morbid, anxious visions flooding your mind Drawn before my eyes Last few minutes of anxiety dying on the cross Flesh and blood remain on the nails Your leader was a wimp Upon the cross he dies Disappeared his body, built a faith of lies