You mark me an idolater   Heathen, pagan, fetishist   You don't see a human being   But a barbaric Antichrist   Safe inside your ivory tower   Of holiness and intolerance   Trapped inside a maze of lies   Such pathetic arrogance      What makes your God the only God and mine revolting pagan idols?   What makes your altar a sacred place and mine a scene of horrible rites?   You eat your God you cannibal so why don't you look at yourself   Your God a carpenter nailed to wood if that's not an idol then what is?      You don't really believe your lies, deep down human you are still   You need your holy fantasy but strength not from within brings chains   You are created in the image of your God but do you think that he grows old?   You claim you talk to your God but do you think the almighty listens?      My gods are so different   They are in my blood   They do not enslave me   Like your tyrant God      My gods are companions   On the solitary path called life   They come when I call   Support me in my strife      I hail to them in my glory   Entrust them with my pain   Call them graven images   Your proselytism is in vain