Posesions and great illusions
Grand chambers, full of gold.
These thombs that enslave us.
Puppets and zombies are walking around
searching for the master, master of this play.
The director is lost, the screenplay is forgotten.
Nobody knows the lyrics anymore.
The prophets have lost their faith
These churches are just imagination.
Forgotten reality of pain and madness,
Broken statues of our greed and lust.
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