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"Spiritual Cramp"---Christian Death
Incurable desease on the day of rest
Walking under water in a sea of incest
I've got the image of Jesus
Embeded in my chest
I can't leave home without
My bullet proof vest
Killing myself for the perfect honeymoon
Fighting with scorpions tied around my neck
I hear the pitter patter
Of a killer on the loose
Children use their fingers instead of words
Crosses burn our temples
On slaughter Avenue
It takes too much time to say I refuse
Time is digging graves for the chosen few
Children dig the graves of me and you
Describe the illness I'll prescribe the cure
Start your two day life
On a two day vacation
I've got a spiritual cramp going for my rib
Those gangsters toting guns
Are shooting spikes in my wrists
Children use their fingers instead of words
Fingers bury children under the boards
I can die a thousand time
But I will always be here
With the powder skull secrets
Of forgotten years
The hangman's noose is drenched
With bloodstained tears
My hands are thekiller that confirms
My fears
Jesus won't you touch me
Come into my heart
Where the hell are you
When the fire starts?
On a mission of the father
To reduce the gates of hell
The ivory bone-eyed mother's flesh
Is starting to swell
I'm setting twenty-two tables
For the funeral feast
Satan is by far the kindest beast
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