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Dazzle me

These deeds I find

Strange the ways

Of twisted mind

Nationwide

The churches blazed

Left the priests and press amazed

The sky enlightened, fiery red

Some persisted: "God is dead"

Not so well, I am sorry not

Just cannot lose what you ain't got

Dead men

Spoke to eager ears

Touched their deepest hidden fears

Oxen blood

And ritual spells

Brought visions of a living hell

Press ran warm, soon obsolete

As more editions were to hit the streets

The source went dry

That is their vice, that is their price

Of printing new sensational lies

Lies, lies, lies

Giving all the people lies

Help, help

Satan ruled the mediaman

Set a race, a metal scan

Preacher men, bishops too

Rose to plea that they found true

Reinforce the exorcist

Satan's friends cease to exist

All these righteous moral eyes

Bring nothing (nothing, nothing) but a bunch of lies

Lies, lies, lies

Giving all the people lies

Help, help

Help, help

Help!