[Intro] [Beautiful, Soft Orchestral Strings] For the love of money is the root of all evil: Which while some coveted after, They have erred from the faith, And pierced themselves through with many sorrows! [Sudden Heavy Iron Boot Stomp] [Segment: The Green Revelry] They seek the gold at rainbow’s end, but silver is but dust, They follow ways of heathen men, in spirits they do trust! The wine is a mocker, the strong drink is a brawler too, For drunkenness and revellings, the Lord hath judged of you! [Chorus: Heavy Industrial March] Thus saith the Lord: Learn not the way! Of the heathen in their pride! For the time past sufficeth us, In these lusts to no longer abide! They honor a man, they bow to the green, But the Jealous God of heaven remains yet unseen! [Transition: Ominous Horn Blast] [Segment: The Arena] You gather in the temples made of steel and of glass, To watch the mighty runners as the hours slowly pass! You shout for the crown that shall soon fade away, But ignore the Great Prize at the end of the day! [Verse: Slow, Rhythmic Enunciation] Every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all, But ye worship the image, and wait for the fall! Little children, keep yourselves from idols of the field, Lest to the golden calf of the stadium ye yield! [Transition: Deep Bass Pulse] [Segment: Night of Darkness] It’s the night of the shadow, where the fearful take their part, With the sorcerers and liars, and the darkness of the heart! Ye observe the times, and the seasons, and the years, While the wrath of the Almighty is falling on your ears! [Chorus] There shall not be found any observer of times, Nor a witch, nor a charmer, in these spiritual crimes! Have no fellowship with works of the dark, But rather expose them, and walk in the Ark! [Transition: Sleigh Bells Chime then Shatter] [Segment: Winter Vanity] Ye deck it with silver, ye fasten it with gold, The work of the workman, a story often told! It cannot speak, it must needs be borne, While the Word of the Living God is treated with scorn! [Verse] The customs of the people are vanity and lies, A tree from the forest before your very eyes! Be not afraid of them, they cannot do thee good, Why bow ye down to a block of the wood? [Bridge: Rising Choir and Pipe Organ] [Finale: Epic Prophetic Call] Come out from among them! Be separate, saith the Lord! Touch not the unclean thing, by the power of His sword! For the hour is coming, and even now is, When the true worshippers shall be only His! Repent of the idols! Flee from the vain! Lest ye partake of the plagues and the pain! [Outro: Slow and Haunting] But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, And into many foolish and hurtful lusts! For the love of money is the root of all evil: Flee these things, O man of God! [Final Echoing Stomp] [Deep Silence]
