Altars Of Doom

Shadows of our shadows

Thorny winding streets

A train of drunk undertakers

Digging their own graves

The altar full of tongues

Of fluent politicians

Altar of suffering

Of the holocaust

The towns of grey sick faces

Jerking the ropes

Which keep them

In constant suspense

Every day struggles

With darkness for light

Shadows disperse

As there comes the night

The last rays

Of the dying world

Locked in the sockets of empty skulls

The small, the weak, the yellow

Waiting for the Messiah

Go away from his feet

Altar of pain

Of the Holocaust

Shadows impressed

In concrete

And ashes mixed with blood