Born to raise hell
Curse, kick, yell
Gasping for air
The prisoner's dilemma
Could easily hurt someone
Having committed myself
Crimes I could not do
In search of an angry
Mother of God
The hand and the rod

Where do I stand?
In indiscretions
God is not a saint
So let me get rich and pass
Through the eye of the needle

Into thee, Domus Aurea
Omina sont communia
In glorious Domus Aurea

The sun shines
On saints and sinners alike
And God is not a saint
So let me get rich and pass
Through the eye of the needle