[Intro: Harry Carey Jr. & Teresa Wright]
May the Lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins
Yes
I have a scrupulous conscience, Father, this need to confess so many things
If I step on two straws in the shape of a cross, I feel that I have to confess it
It torments me
We'll try to make a good confession, and remember, Christ forgives us all of our sins
Only little things
Nothing
Seventeen of them, Father
The first was that waitress near Candlestick Park
I cut her throat and watched her bleed
She bled a great deal
It's a problem that I'm working on, Father
All this bleeding
Gasping for air
Lings filled with sand
Renaissance of tyranny
Risen to greet us
Souls of the past
Rape the harvest of heaven
As we eat their bleeding hearts
Slay the lambs of Christ
To feed the worms
Lord of filth
Who enslaved the sick
Morbid sands of time
Bleed angelic script
Angels gagged, barbed wire
Rounded up, spring slaughter
Urine soaked cloth, man of God
Draped over Christ's feeble existence
Virgins stripped down
To bleed for the devil
Molested in agony
Vomit serves to cleanse
Their maggot infested bodies of filth
Impaled, before the church
One last taste of the Lie
Blood on the tongues of fools
Drug by thorns
To lie in the shadows