Luyện nghe bài hát Bathory's Sainthood

Do you alive now that you own the dead
Praying on their corpses, their no longer feel
Your sainthood is obvious on every starving
Your given us a way to separate

The poor from their hate, the rich from the
Genuflect away the sins that we've
Sure one percent rules but made of gold
So it up to folly and consequence alone

Do we really what we really need a bastard messiah
Wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean white washed
And every time the real war's defined, the are filled
To hide battle lines, torches to and bridges to torture
Headlines distort we see as our borders

And what us the right to feed with remorse for a God
They created, a God for the poor, for bathory bleeding
Out the devil hicks in angelic shrouds, blasphemy as
Out we've for it for more of the same

Sad of ghettos created by the power elite
For our minds and burning, no longer
For freedom invoked just more of the