They sit shoulder to shoulder on dark benches
And blankly they glance ahead
At the cross imposed by the bright lights
As dreary and imposing as a major wound
The incense rises from a golden vessel
With ascending and dying singing
Panting and uncertain and evanescent
As the priest paces the haunted hall
In front of the altar, but his mind is weary
Of religious traditions, a pathetic prayer
From worshipers with stone hearts
In a soulless performance with bread and wine
The bell strikes, the dim lights flicker!
They pale, like fatal wounds!
The organ screams, their dead hearts shiver!
A reminder, the face bleeding and in pain!
Overcome by darkness and despair
Eyes stare at him from the darkness
And all the voices sounded as one
Sobbing, the horror grew in the tiny hall
The horror of death arose
Have mercy on us, our Lord!
They sit shoulder to shoulder on dark benches And blankly they glance ahead At the cross imposed by the bright lights As dreary and imposing as a major wound The incense rises from a golden vessel With ascending and dying singing Panting and uncertain and evanescent As the priest paces the haunted hall In front of the altar, but his mind is weary Of religious traditions, a pathetic prayer From worshipers with stone hearts In a soulless performance with bread and wine The bell strikes, the dim lights flicker! They pale, like fatal wounds! The organ screams, their dead hearts shiver! A reminder, the face bleeding and in pain! Overcome by darkness and despair Eyes stare at him from the darkness And all the voices sounded as one Sobbing, the horror grew in the tiny hall The horror of death arose Have mercy on us, our Lord!