By his presence, I am graced
He smirks at his believer
Prophetic hands cup my face
Creating dual fever

In hate, in haste, we embrace
Tugging fabric from the skin
With wicked hands at my waist
He says I was made to sin

Do what I must to atone
For wrongs I cannot foresee
Guardian angel of stone
Do you take your aim at me?

"One," he whispers, firm and clear
"You'll worship and adore me
Always know that you shall have
No others before me"

"Two," he says, gaining rhythm
On a body he'll deface
Anoint, unholy chrism
"No idols in my place"

Guide me down to my knees
Grasp at him, dark-robed vicar
He murmurs our decalogue
But his groans sound like scripture

These commandments, I will learn
All the power he compels
For his kiss, I'd gladly burn
In every circle of hell

With sacred words from his mouth
I will ascend from the depth
As he prays for me now
And at the hour of my death