Plague by ​The Swarm
Plague by ​The Swarm

Plague

​The Swarm * Track #4 On Parasitic Skies

Plague Lyrics

Money for your ailing God, pump it into his dead corpse. Yes, you are just like your Christ - a smooth talking salesman with all the easy answers, a TV personality is all you'll ever fucking be

And the sheep that feed your disease
Deserve every bit of what they're getting
The false hope of salvation
The seduction of the pliant
Pliant
Pliant
The seduction of the pliant

[?]

Money for your ailing God
Money for your ailing God

[?] suffocation
Nothing can revive a fictional hero - ever

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