CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Rally Round The Crucifix
Passing by the average Joe
Rocking in a fetus pose
Fashion and Adidas toes
Bleeding like a Judas rose
Fear up in the side, it’s
Fear of [?]
Breathing through his sinus
Saint’s robe like Aquinas
You can smell the virus, it’s leaking through his iris
Black plague or typhus
The black veins of Cyprus
My, it’s getting quite late
Don’t you up and vacate
Instead of weaving staircase, lead you to the air raids
Rally ‘round the crucifix
Rocking in a Jesus pose
Alleys drown in putridness
Sticky like a mucus nose
Only friends of Lucifer’s
And demons call him lunatics
Petrified and lurid stones
Tarot cards and crystal sticks
Kettles seeped on trash can
Metal teeth and cracked hands
Let ‘em sleep on crashed bands
Let ‘em keep the mashed plans
Kneeling by the temple stoops
Feel alive by mental loops
Evil eye at rental troupes
Laughing at the passersby
Stick a needle in your eye
Voodoo dolls and battle cries
Lift a beetle, watch him fly
People pick a poison then slashing swords, smashing stems
Evil lurks around the bend
Fashion orbs capture them
Peering through his mind, it’s
Nearing to his time and
You can see the light if
You listen for the sirens
Ready for the last stand
Heavy with the brass pan
Many fear the masked man
Every year they pass him
Rally ‘round the crucifix
Rocking in a lotus pose
Stirring in a liquid mix
Popping like an open stove
Only friends invisible
Some people call him pacifist
Never on the physical
Out of body, astro tip
Black souls, pearly gates
Rat holes invaded by snakes
Tadpoles in the murky lakes
In the scrolls, [?]
Witches on stakes
Whispers in the holy place
Scriptures in the broken vase
Virgins disturbing
Here comes the sermon in the whirlwind
Vagabonds, the dragon’s arm, the church steeple
Don’t hurt the people
Curse to the evil
The suffering man with cuts in his hands
Found luck in the trash can
An old lotto ticket
Follow mystics to the gypsy district
Palm readers, psalm believers
Stay calm to the Easter
After that, the beast’ll reach up
Throw a [?] jail
The crucifix
Cold cruel males impale the lamb, the son of man
John Wilkes Booth with a gun in his hand
Abraham Lincoln, what was he thinking?
Start blinking
Put his brains in the evening
Six ways of the demons
Rocking in a fetus pose
Fashion and Adidas toes
Bleeding like a Judas rose
Fear up in the side, it’s
Fear of [?]
Breathing through his sinus
Saint’s robe like Aquinas
You can smell the virus, it’s leaking through his iris
Black plague or typhus
The black veins of Cyprus
My, it’s getting quite late
Don’t you up and vacate
Instead of weaving staircase, lead you to the air raids
Rally ‘round the crucifix
Rocking in a Jesus pose
Alleys drown in putridness
Sticky like a mucus nose
Only friends of Lucifer’s
And demons call him lunatics
Petrified and lurid stones
Tarot cards and crystal sticks
Kettles seeped on trash can
Metal teeth and cracked hands
Let ‘em sleep on crashed bands
Let ‘em keep the mashed plans
Kneeling by the temple stoops
Feel alive by mental loops
Evil eye at rental troupes
Laughing at the passersby
Stick a needle in your eye
Voodoo dolls and battle cries
Lift a beetle, watch him fly
People pick a poison then slashing swords, smashing stems
Evil lurks around the bend
Fashion orbs capture them
Peering through his mind, it’s
Nearing to his time and
You can see the light if
You listen for the sirens
Ready for the last stand
Heavy with the brass pan
Many fear the masked man
Every year they pass him
Rally ‘round the crucifix
Rocking in a lotus pose
Stirring in a liquid mix
Popping like an open stove
Only friends invisible
Some people call him pacifist
Never on the physical
Out of body, astro tip
Black souls, pearly gates
Rat holes invaded by snakes
Tadpoles in the murky lakes
In the scrolls, [?]
Witches on stakes
Whispers in the holy place
Scriptures in the broken vase
Virgins disturbing
Here comes the sermon in the whirlwind
Vagabonds, the dragon’s arm, the church steeple
Don’t hurt the people
Curse to the evil
The suffering man with cuts in his hands
Found luck in the trash can
An old lotto ticket
Follow mystics to the gypsy district
Palm readers, psalm believers
Stay calm to the Easter
After that, the beast’ll reach up
Throw a [?] jail
The crucifix
Cold cruel males impale the lamb, the son of man
John Wilkes Booth with a gun in his hand
Abraham Lincoln, what was he thinking?
Start blinking
Put his brains in the evening
Six ways of the demons
