Saviors robed in cloaks of blood Eucharist in mouth Hand in the basket Arms in hand Deaths in vain Politicians’ observe us through stained glass Demagogues and bureaucrats are at Sunday’s service Your god is selling your life Your god is buying my liberty Politics kiss the Vatican Pope encased in plastic while his missionaries fall to mortar and gunfire All in the name of the Nothing This Sunday has no agenda for you Theology is war Death is insignificant All gray matter is ash Myths are preached The basket is empty The bodies are buried And at the end of the tunnel your soul remains unsaved

Lyrics submitted by Blaupunked

Sunday’s Agenda song meanings
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