The March of Hate Lyrics

I still smell the stench of your words
You race of cowards! Who said you’re the heir of God?
Are you able to judge my faults? To touch my sons? To condemn my life?
Deserts for your serpent tongues
Scorn, spits for the fat church’s womb!
Rule! Command! your penitent flocks
History is against you, infamy of the popes!
The enemy is the priest!
The enemy is the priest!
Lies! built upon lies! What’s the right of your existence?
Attend your sheep into the house of lies
Your false experience matches with crime.
Pillars of pain, hierarchies of greed
I trample on your name I scorn your needs!
Deserts and thorns for you fat fucker
Gal for your mouth cross licker!
The enemy is the priest!
The enemy is the priest!
What’s redemption? What’s absolution?
I’m heading the march of Hate!
Lies! built upon lies! What’s the right of your existence?
Attend your fools into the house of lies
Your false experience matches with crime.
Pillars of pain, hierarchies of greed
I trample on your name I scorn your needs!
Deserts and thorns for you fat fucker
Gal for your mouth cross licker!
The men’s worst enemy is the priest!.
7. Between Pain and Perdition