Lambs to the Chapel - Gatherers

«God how I ricochet between certainties and doubts»

Prey upon the weak as if you were godless

We butcher and bear witness

Come pray

It’s not enough grief

Praise the crutch from the arms of your redeemer

I’m you’re miracle strung on a rope

Cancer plagues the well from which you drink

Worship in the filth of a new disease

Worship in the clay I seed

Feral martyrs in heat

Come sink your teeth into me

I shepherd the poor like lambs to the chapel

Reveling in the dogma and giest

You’ll never take me alive, feed me to the fire

All and nothing less by the book I prescribe

Falsify

Hunt down the flock for the meat

Prey

There is no hope, no cure