I am the rack  on which my saviour bleeds and cries  with nails through hands and feet  those bitter tears received with greed    Not to speak of the Blood  to be seen in streams on his head  from under a crown of thorns  the sinful human to drown    Bleed on me  Bleed me sore  The seed is sowed to Hell with the creed    The shame of deepest guilt  on which the whorehouse is built  No glory before paying the whore  No glory until her lust is stilled    Better Off Burning  Better Off Burning    Land of the saviour  by souls bestowed  Forgiveness shall dwell  in the heart of good behaviour    In time  our future meets the past  no more time to climb the heavens  this century shall be the last    In time  salvation will let go of me  No longer shall mankind avoid the fire  In eternal prayer ro retire