You mark me an idolater
Heathen, pagan, fetishist
You dont see a human being
But a barbaric Antichrist
Safe inside your ivory tower
Of holiness and intolerance
Trapped inside a maze of lies
Such pathetic arrogance

What makes your god the only god and mine revolting pagan idols?
What makes your altar a sacred place and mine a scene of horrible rites?
You eat your god you cannibal so why dont you look at yourself
Your god a carpenter nailed to wood if thats not an idol then what is?

You dont really believe your lies, deep down human you are still
You need your holy fantasy but strength not from within brings chains
You are created in the image of your god but do you think that he grows old?
You claim you talk to your god but do you think the almighty listens?

My gods are so different
They are in my blood
They do not enslave me
Like your tyrant god

My gods are companions
On the solitary path called life
They come when I call
Support me in my strife

I hail to them in my glory
Entrust them with my pain
Call them graven images
Your proselytism is in vain