Oil on my forehead,
The sign of my ordination,
Possibility to my divinity connection,
Only the aligned can reach,
The chambers of the sacrament,
Where only the initiate lives,
With my face flat to the earth,
I pour my mind to Most High,
"Give us one more connect,
Where our transgressions are allayed,
And our damnation discharged and acquitted.
Adore the one who lives,
And never dies again,
Living is a style for divinity,
Death is a style for mortals,
Hunger!
Not for divinity,
Blood, bread and meat,
Mortals will quest for,
But who knows,
Does mortals go to sleep,
You guessed right,
They wander at night,
The vacuum streets,
Where the ghost of their ancestors have taken over,
Matching orders like soldiers,
With a lieutenant in the lead.
Lead me on this journey,
My father to meet in the sleep,
Drawn into a tussle with Persia,
The man who created for more power,
Unknown to him was led into witchcraft,
Intoxicated with power and undo the do's,
Now death came calling,
Power weakened and he begged,
On the knees but rejected,
Only the humble can get grace multiplied,
The proud is profane,
Beaten by those whom he robbed shoulders with,
Comparing a child to grey hair.