I heard a bell ring long and loud
Echoes down the ages
Fires alight on hilltops
for the saved to see
To then step and kneel
beneath the hope of salvation
In this Church of incantation
believers hold a forlorn hope
As I see in the far hills
the four riders on horseback
riding down the centuries
to the end of days
I have heard in cloisters ruins
in times of darks and dreams
These cold and forgotton words
whispered by the serpent
in the time before the fall
eat of this
Prelates in silken robes
cry Heresy down the wind
Tortured confessions screaming
from souls of innocence
and Satan howls in glee
as Rome performs his deeds
If Christ should walk again
what words would he now speak
as he again bears witness
to evil wrought in his name
What sadness would there be
behind his eyes
The blood dripping from the Cross
fell on fouled and barren stone
The message torn and twisted
to the will of priests on thrones
who in the grasp for power and glory
believed they spoke for God
