there are ample miracles for godless heathens
an old lady prays in the name of revenge
a gypsy is blessed with the love of her brethren
those who are lost find their way in the end
holy men dream of winning gods favor
worships fall to their knees and repent
heathens don't fear any gods or demons
heaven and hell are just places we've been
you can tell me I'm damned
but only I decide who I am
the sun shines bright on the faces of skeptics
wine tastes fine when it's no ones blood
prayers are carried on the wind to butterflies
forgiveness is free to the ones that we love
I have been to the banks of the river
I have climbed to the mountain's peak
there is no pew like the dirt under my feet
no cross more sacred than the trees
you can tell me I'm damned
but only I decide who I am
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