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