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PAGAN ALTAR LYRICS

The Lords of Hypocrisy

"The Lords of Hypocrisy" (2004)

1. The Lords of Hypocrisy
2. Satan's Henchmen
3. Sentinels of Hate
4. Armageddon
5. The Interlude
6. The Aftermath
7. The Masquerade
8. The Devil Came Down to Brockley
9. March of the Dead







1. The Lords of Hypocrisy

Figures of Religion that preach to society, standing upright and tall
Screaming from the pulpit on Sunday morning
To save you from the fall
Can you hear them?
Can you see them?
Donít believe them; donít believe what they say!

Tales of heaven and life everlasting fear of the eternal fire,
Preaching lies of death and damnation,
Whilst lifting themselves ever higher.
Can you hear them?
Can you see them?
Donít believe them; donít believe what they say!

Death will come to even the righteous only the good die young.
So live your life the way that you want to,
Donít let them think theyíve won!
Can you hear them?
Can you see them?
Donít believe them donít believe what they say!

Unlock their minds and read their desires,
See them in a different light.
Pious figures reverently mumbling
But where did they spend last night?

Theyíre creatures of the night,
Theyíre creatures of the shadows,
That haunts the dark recesses of your mind,
They turn you from the light to live in a nightmare
Into souls that are mentally blind!




2. Satan's Henchmen

Dark riders with flowing robes, the power of death within them flows.
Riding out across the sky
Satanís henchmen flying by.

Black stallions with silent hooves glide gracefully across the roofs.
Flared nostrils and fiery eyes,
Satanís henchmen ride the skies.

Spread out to all four winds, to leave their curse wherever theyíve been.
Nightriders hunting souls,
Satanís henchman, Witches dolls.

Horse and rider appear as one, to disappear before the rising sun.
Fading shadows in the morning light,
Satanís henchmen rule the night




3. Sentinels of Hate

People often now stand and stare and wonder who could they be,
That would leave such a lasting tribute to their lives.
But they never look down in the undergrowth at the pile of broken stone.
Or spare a thought for all the young men who have died.

Ruined Chapels and neglected graves have masked the truth for years
Only mangled limbs bear witness to their pain.
Their lord and masters pampered lives are marked by a granite tomb,
But in death the bones will always look the same.

The hooves of black plumed horses are silent on the cobbled streets
And a rusty lock secures the cemetery gates.
The age is long since dead and gone when they ruled in our domain
All thatís left are these sentinels of hate.

Stone and marble pillars reaching higher, pointing ever upward to the skies
Looking down on the rank and file beneath them in the cold dark ground,
As theyíd done throughout their selfish lives, all through there lives!

Evening falls to cast shadows ever longer, to slowly move across each soul again.
As if to say look up to me Iím still your master as Iíll always be
Even in death our roles are still the same, they havenít changed!
Ashes down to ashes, dust down to dust,
It was the children born with a silver spoon and dealt the kind hand of fate,
Created these monoliths to power, built these sentinels of hate!

Their pious names cut deep into the marble, clear for all to see down though the years.
The means to their success lies buried in crumbling vaults with broken headstones,
No reflection left of all the tears, shed down the years.




4. Armageddon

ďIt has been predicted there will be three world wars, two have already pastĒ.
ďThe third is to be the end of life on this planet as we know itĒ.
ďThe place or battle site for the final conflict between good and evil is called,
ARMAGEDDONĒ!

People are coming from all over the World heading for Armageddon,
Building themselves a Ďman made Hellí starting at Armageddon.
They donít know that their time is running outí
Canít they see itís the Worlds lifeblood thatís comming out!

Warlords are plotting all over the world, planning for Armageddon,
Waiting in trenches for the opening bell, rung out at Armageddon.
They donít know that their time is running outí
Canít they see itís the Worlds lifeblood thatís comming out!

Good and evil all over the World meeting at Armageddon,
But you wonít need heaven and you wonít need hell after Armageddon.
They donít know that their time is running outí
Canít they see itís the Worlds lifeblood thatís comming out!

I can see the fire of hate in their eyes,
The Sunset of this World is drawing near.
The Erl king doffs his hat in mock affection,
The moment he has prayed for is now here!

Itís no good you hiding in the subways,
The end of mankind has just begun.
The hand of death will reach you where youíre hiding,
Perhaps in a million years weíll live again!

ďDown through the centuries man has had his warnings, but still he took no heedĒ!




5. The Interlude

A World stripped of its colour devoid of love and hate.
Thereís no one left to stand before St Peterís pearly gates.
To see the chaos man has wrought,
Brings havoc to his brain.
The few thatís left on judgement day,
Have been acquitted as insane!

A silent World of shapeless things, of torn and twisted form.
Man sits amid the wreckage waiting vainly for the dawn.
The glory of man has come and gone,
A broken shattered dream.
The only sound to rent the air,
Is a stifled choking scream!

Blindness follows darkness man awaits impending doom.
His mind lies dead, to arise no more, no awakening from the gloom.
Lost amid the twilight world
Of never ending night
He needs no more his senses,
Least of all he needs his sight!

The chariots of fire rode roughshod through the World.
Men of vision stood ridiculed, seen but never heard!
Cries of disillusionment,
Drowned by mans desire.
The need for mass destruction,
Fuelled the raging fire!




6. The Aftermath

Screaming, awful screaming the smell of carnage fills the air.
Then silence, complete silence, death and destruction everywhere.

Nothing, there is nothing, nothing at all left alive.
Annihilation, complete annihilation, the angel of death has arrived.

Cities turned to ashes whole Continents have died.
The mushroom clouds still linger on
Blackening the skies!

Charred trees, reaching skywards, like hands held limply in the air.
Scorched fields, barren landscape, no one left alive to care.
Now that the fires have gone
Thereís no one to right all the wrong,
No one to right all the wrong!

Warning after warning but still they took no heed.
Thoughts only of the power, Ideology and greed.




7. The Masquerade

Think of the people you meet every day,
Think of the characters they try to portray.
They hide what theyíre thinking hide what they feel,
In an age of hypocrisy nothing is real.
Faces are just curtains of stone,
That hides their true feelings Ďtill theyíre alone.

Who can you say that you really know?
You see only the façade they wish to show.
Is it that they are weak or afraid?
They live out their lives in this masquerade.

They are all clowns behind a painted smile.
They tried to enchant, persuade or beguile.
Faceless with no thoughts or ideals,
Transparent reflections, nothing is real.

They cling to their idols echo their lives,
But itís only a front, a place they can hide.
Their own minds suppressed from birth to the grave,
Enacting their lives in this masquerade.

I look at myself am I the same,
I try to find out if I play the game.
Which side of my soul does everyone see?
The face that I show is it really me?

Thereís no way of knowing if I play a part,
Is my true self left in the dark?
Am I for real, or what I am made?
Or am I just part of this masquerade?




8. The Devil Came Down to Brockley




9. March of the Dead

Hooded figures dressed in black, drifting through the night.
Chanting softly moving slowly bathed in moonlight.
Arms outstretched with fingers groping, walking all in line
From gaping coffins emerge these shadows, awakened for all time,
Witches and Warlocks rising from the grave,
Vampires and sorcerers, from a bygone age.

Up in front the awesome creature marching at their head,
Satan beckons ever onward his army of undead.
Charred limbs heave their mindless bodies through the mists of time.
Sightless sockets follow blindly their leaders pointing arm,
Burning and torture these beings had endured,
Drowning and stoning for reasons now obscure.

From every graveyard pour the hordes to strike before dawn
A thousand years of deaths carnage gathered Ďfore the morní.
Their vengeance turned against mankindís unsuspecting head.
Thereís no defence, thereís no escape, you cannot kill the dead.

 


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