Myths are flowers of imagination They grow freely fed by mystery Watered by our hopes and faith in metaphor Dressed up in the truth they beautifully adorn Gardens of our minds reborn Resurrected from the past we left behind ReligionJust like superstition Is the weed that strangles reason Blood is beauty flowing from the veins Of inspiration to our hearts Beating as our dreams and real life collide Decorated in our sins we shed our skins, strengthen our lungs Breathe and kill the demons with the magic of our tongues ReligionJust like superstition Is the weed that strangles reason The image of the lord has been replaced By a mirror and the Devils face A virtuous heretic shall be saved Before a wicked Christian preys ReligionJust like superstition Is the weed that strangles reason ReligionJust like superstition Is the weed that strangles reason
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