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
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