Day of Suffering - Anata/Bethzaida/Season of mist

I am lost in the land

Of withering shadows

Seeking no truth

Finding depth in various things

Weak in their spirit

And shallow are their hearts

Fading away like flowers

Under the sun

And his frailty had to be shared

My true belief was to be declared

The holy man opened his heart

And he let me receive the blessing

Of his lord

The wine is turned into the blood of Christ

No I choose to spit on his face

Forever walk the enlightened ways

Died on the 'cross

Where's your kingdom now

All your knowledge is worthless

All your efforts are in vain

Sanguinary

Blood thirst in my nature

Puppets of Christ in consanguinity

But I cut the strings long ago

What does he think of now

When he lies slain upon his altar

Dripping with blood

With the 'cross stabbed through his chest

Just like he was stabbed in the back

By his blind faith

Chalice fall let the bell toll

Transform wine into blood of God

Naked unsheltered

Now facing stone

And so is the man on the altar