Red angels dance on lips
As my mother burns
for your sadistic trips
I can turn the
vision away
But the image persists it won't
go away
You preach like prophets but you say
it wrong
You fan the flames of battles
born
You think you're right and you're
posed to fight
You burn the blood so you
should loose the right
You hold her up and
you lie some more
That you're not holding
what you're fighting for
Your solution to
the constitution
Shows a lack of conviction
to your contradiction
Red angels dance on
lips
As my mother burns for your sadistic
trips
I can turn the vision away
The
image persists that's been the way
So I
pose to you a question of faith
Would you
kill your mother despite her disgrace
Tear
down the walls of values gone
Then fan the
flames and feed upon
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