Album: Repression (1980)

Sects

Like the last of the Mohicans
You acted like bloody pagans
So let the bells ring
Rejoice and sing
Jim Jones, where did you come from
Jim Jones, was it for fun?
Jim Jones, that's your name
Jim Jones, a silent death.

Religious sects and promised lands
Are you ready for the gods?
Martyrs, killers holding hands
Did not fight the odds.
The dying angel said, "Drink up"
"Be merry and be dead!"

Jim Jones, where did you come from
Jim Jones, was it for fun?
Jim Jones, that's your name
Jim Jones, you dead for fame.

Murder! Murder! Murder! The zero hero!

Walk on them like insects
Gamble with death for a joke!
Mercenary disciples with bibles and rifles
In the temple of the people
A doomsday book of evil
No poster hanging high
I die, you die. Don't ask why
I die, you die. Don't ask why
I die, you die. Don't ask why.