You breed malice into your pews Like death you never have enough Spewing your poison Over the four corners of the world You're twisted in knots Pouring salt in every wound Spewing your poison Like seeds of discontent Flaunting your hate As a means of backwards religion Hell is not low enough to contain your depravity Hell is not low enough to truly describe where you're heading Your mouth is a festering wound Never shut long enough to heal Like death you never have enough So your thirst will be quenched It's just a matter of time before you beg due recompense All the hate you spew will not save you before them Death you never have enough Like death you never have enough Fall to your knees Your redeemer's robes won't save you And even your rules betray you You breed malice into your pews And make them suffer under your abuse You breed malice into your pews Like death you never have enough Fall to your knees, Pharisee And burn Your mouth is a festering wound Never shut long enough to heal Like death you never have enough So your thirst will be quenched It's just a matter of time before you beg due recompense All the hate you spew will not save you before them Depart from me for I never knew you