Illness We Preach - Saratan

I’m the blood I am the flesh

I will turn into dust

I need no control spells on my soul

I’ll choose my way at last

Thought to be a slave

The wealth they need

The power they seek

They crucified ideals

Corrupted soul leeching on faith

To make them bleed I see it spreads

Their domination, mutilation

They shatter boundaries

False prophecy, crowds on their knees

The end will come from the east

Thought to obey

Our world is sick

I won’t obey madness and hate

The power that drains us

Choose other way, rot, decay

And just wait for something vile

Our world is sick

Violence we preach

Our choices are missed

Lies unrevealed

Concealed behind laughter

Your solution is revolution

But what’ll remain after that

Born to be a slave

Thought to obey

Thought to be fake