The disciple smiles in disgust
And things aren't here to be discussed
We traded the privilege for scraps
Exchanged for the clothes on our backs
Lived life like there was no other way
Now the sacred is profane
But we deserve all the blame
A simple piece of stagecraft
We traded our moral high ground so they would sing along
Is it as dark as it seems?
To trade a little purity to prolong the dream?
One by one we will find a way
to let each and every one down
It's his voice through my lips
It's the miracle of gastromancy
They are spinning in their graves
At the choices we have made
But in our shoes would they have stayed so chaste?