Septic Flesh - Unbeliever

Hate me, help me, convert my mind. Direct me to your gloom the halls of kingdom come. To the land of no return take me ignorant. Show me your master and creator. Take me; take me to the tombs of your sacred relics, where bodies bend like weak betrayers. What a fitting punisher you are. Bring your own redemption. The touch of the nails to the skin is the fruit of your love for masochism. I don't deserve your trance. I am the adversary of a dominant race of zealots I am the kind that doubts the unreason. Unbeliever I won't forget to ask the questions before I give an answer to me. On the land of no return there are all that you can't find: The lack of sense, the lack of anything that you can feel. I won't decide to play the master instead I chose to be. You say I am incomplete, I say I'll always be. Cover your mouth with tape. Cover your heart with pain. Cover your eyes with shame. Spend all your life in vain. I don't deserve your trance. I am the adversary of a dominant race of zealots I am the kind that doubts the unreason. Hate me, help me, convert my mind. Direct me to your gloom the halls of kingdom come. To the land of no return take me ignorant. Show me your master and creator. I don't deserve your trance. I am the adversary of a dominant race of zealots I am the kind that doubts the unreason. Unbeliever