Open Letters To Closed Doors

Sweetness of Revenge

I want his head on a plate
And his blood in the streets
But sometimes it's better to use a dove
Instead of this ax at our feet
For we will never find worldly peace
Under the black mass of a holy cross
This revolution starts
Deep within our foreboding thoughts
And for those prayers that you offered
You will receive no response
Because there is no man
Watching from a palace in the sky
Just an imaginary father
Feeding malice to our minds