Red angels dance on lips

As my mother burns for your sadistic trips

I can turn the vision away

But the image persists it won't go away

You preach like prophets but you say it wrong

You fan the flames of battles born

You think you're right and you're posed to fight

You burn the blood so you should loose the right

You hold her up and you lie some more

That you're not holding what you're fighting for

Your solution to the constitution

Shows a lack of conviction to your contradiction

Red angels dance on lips

As my mother burns for your sadistic trips

I can turn the vision away

The image persists that's been the way

So I pose to you a question of faith

Would you kill your mother despite her disgrace

Tear down the walls of values gone

Then fan the flames and feed upon