God Bless the Hustler (Anorexia Nervosa)

Shining upon their chests The silver seal The blood-red penitents Towards our land From my window I can guess The flames of their so-called heaven By now, I should run away Leave the house, the church, the grave And I won't do that I open my eyes - cannot move Their hell after tracks me down Has finally put his hand in mine Torture me if you want I have learnt to suffer And in my grave Rained many a tear, oh blessed majesties Once more saved - nevermore Mare tenebrarum - the red penitents My fate divine - their worst obssession Burn in hell you cunt ! Their eyes are burning more than their crosses