Flesh for ears and flesh for eyes, deteriorise the godly disguise,
Like Weird and Gilley wasting away in the trance of the chameleon's messiahcal gaze.

The spirit is willing and the flesh is still weak,
And corpses lay rotting, and corpses still reek,
Walk in the flesh, and your members of sin will determine your place for your death in the end, oh.

Kill the sarx, kill the sarx,
Hang him from the rafter,
Kill the sarx, kill the sarx,
Hang him from your rafter.