March of the Atheists (исполнитель: Piano Magic)
Well I can accept that you have your faith So you must accept that I have none You chase your god into your grave I'll die alone when my days are done All these fabulous beasts that you strike down All this beautiful land that you claim [bad word] And all these wars in the name of a book There's god in your heart but there's blood on your hands So where are you fires of [bad word] So where now your golden gates? I see no angels, no heaven on high I hear no marching of your saints (Go placidly amongst the noise and haste) Well, I know your churches are a sight to behold And I know your stories as good as any man I know we all have our crosses to bear But I'll waste none of my time in desperate prayer [bad word] the bells of the Mont-St-Michel But me and the saviour were never that close I've called into the night with no hope of reply But I've seen the holes in the Holy Ghost So where now, your peace to all men? So where now, your undeniable proof? Where is it written, in paper or stone : An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth?