the gospel of moloch

master of canaanites,
god of old.
in the valley of
gehenna,
build an alter to
the owl,
made of stone.
throw your seed in the
fire,
sacrificing everything
but the bones.

deep in the grove,
you can hear their
cries.
bohemian men
in white robes,
harvest the innocents,
with their sacrificial
knives.
the cremation of care,
is in the air tonight.

wise old owl,
there you sit.
the stain of the
innocents is on
the alter,
quiet as it's kept.
drinking from the
river of blood,
as the mothers wept...