Winds from the desert of my birth -
The brilliant Christopher Hitchens - RIP
Sons of hatred burn their way
Through disbelievers whom they slay
All in the name of their loving god to save you
Religion is a Mind Forged Manacle
That has chained us with their primitive lies
Their Bitter Angels judging me
For dreams and thoughts in my mind
Ethnic cleansing
In the name of god
Infanticide
Bash them on rocks
Before the eyes of their fathers
For I am your god!
Men of science
Burned alive
To free the righteous
From the Devil's lies
They bask in the glory of their inquisition
Fool disciples
Self-proclaimed
Burn some witches
They are insane
But religion empowers them to kill with impunity
The Mind Forged Manacle
Has imprisoned our human rights
Those Bitter Angels stalking me
Want to crucify my mind
Christopher Hitchens
Swear allegiance to the Caliphate
Chop some heads for Muhammad's sake
Then claim your 72 virgins in Paradise
Bow to worship
Kneel to pray
Beg forgiveness
Pay to Play
God needs money so to save your soul
Send 10 % His way
Bitter Angels come to punish me
Proclaiming free though is a crime
They have passed a righteous death sentence
For everything they despise
Religion is a Mind Forged Manacle
That has chained us with their primitive lies
Their Bitter Angels judging me
For dreams and thoughts in my mind