Torch от Split

They look for a king In this land of the blind The virtue of vision Since decades denied The scars on their knees From giving their praise Are not deep enough To show them his face They cry out their lungs Drowning in fear All of their prayers Fall on deaf ears He’s a racist, a liar Just a common thief A sexist, false prophet Spreading his disease Gather around In the house of the snake Archaic words Bearing your faith Spit twisted words Through crooked teeth Claiming his crown Hail - the king of deceit Behold fools march towards their end All in his name Those who refuse to repent Crushed by the brimstone rain Only illusion is sacred Truth is profane Those who refuse to repent Crushed down by the brimstone rain Cut through the veil That covers your eyes They keep searching for the light Never to be found Their eyes will remain black In darkness forever bound I carry the torch Shining so bright I am the keeper Of my own light Resign your throne and Renounce your crown I curse this house Watch it burn to the ground