Standing so close to the edge Pumping more until they burst The only thing not being done Is getting these bridges burned Still sowing seeds of hate Growing nicely in the weak While preparing for the terror That is yet to be unleashed With your gums oiled and greased And your biggest smile in place Your role is that one of a priest To convert them all with haste Still sowing seeds of hate Growing nicely in the weak While preparing for the terror That is yet to be unleashed Another lie to calm things down Storming - the winds of hate Hating - all that you create