Slaughtered - Live from Donington

One's own Kingman, Christ person, Woman God.
 At battle with a mass astrengent. The bond
 That blends the weak to the wise.
 It's a safe assumption that you'd want
 to save me now. But I'll never face castration.
 For your sacred sow is left slaughtered.
 Brainwashed by me. Myself influence I. Bird brained
 World saver. A fake god rests dead inside you.
 It's a safe assumption that you'd want to save me now.
 But I'll never face castration. For your sacred sow is left
 Slaughtered.
 System destroyed. Exposed and unployed. The fruit
 Of intention cry for their dead, but turning their head to
 Ignore reality's claw. Knife to your wrist, syringe in your
 Arm is your ounce of prevention. Give what you made,
 And under your name on your grave, is salvation. A big
 Fucking joke.
 Slaughter the pig, the self rightous king for your own
 Restoration. For your God is in your chest, and faith kills
 What is precious, for death is unanswered.
 Do sin.