Slaughtered - Pantera

One's own Kingman, Christ person, Woman God. 
At battle with a mass astrengent. The bond 
That blends the weak to the wise. 
It's a safe assumption that you'd want 
to save me now. But I'll never face castration. 
For your sacred sow is left slaughtered. 
Brainwashed by me. Myself influence I. Bird brained 
World saver. A fake god rests dead inside you. 
It's a safe assumption that you'd want to save me now. 
But I'll never face castration. For your sacred sow is left 

Slaughtered. 

System destroyed. Exposed and unployed. The fruit 
Of intention cry for their dead, but turning their head to 
Ignore reality's claw. Knife to your wrist, syringe in your 
Arm is your ounce of prevention. Give what you made, 
And under your name on your grave, is salvation. A big 
Fucking joke. 

Slaughter the pig, the self rightous king for your own 
Restoration. For your God is in your chest, and faith kills 
What is precious, for death is unanswered. 

Do sin.