Текст песни Matthew 23 - $tar$eed

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat
So you must be careful to do everything they tell you
But do not do what they do
For they do not practice what they preach
They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people's shoulders
But they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them
Everything they do is done for people to see
They make their phylacteries wide and the tassels on their garments long
They love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues
They love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to be called 'Rabbi' by others
But you are not to be called 'Rabbi
For you have one Teacher
And you are all brothers
And do not call anyone on earth 'father
For you have one Father, and he is in heaven
Nor are you to be called instructors
For you have one Instructor, the Messiah
The greatest among you will be your servant
For those who exalt themselves will be humbled
And those who humble themselves will be exalted

Confutatis
Maledictis
Flammis acribus
Addictis
Voca me cum
Benedictis
Oro supplex
Et acclinis

Confutatis
Maledictis
Flammis acribus
Addictis
Voca me cum
Benedictis
Oro supplex
Et acclinis

From high to low
An eye like eye stays alive
Devils, saints spawn the time
Flame of love burn hatred of sky
And on the ground Sea of seeds that tell no lies
Clear as sky

Look as death crafts earth with light
Another dyeing god self prophet suicide
Keeping thy wisdom when free from the fight
Punchline, punchline like a cloths line

Fuego de Kane burn able on sight
And in the mean time electrons turn right
On the left side wrong doers act light
All about them till the money talk like

Im kind, im love, im even gratitude
Everything the Pharisees thought was cool
A little piece paper tell niggas what to do
In the mean time gold on me like fools

Jester's in court making kings feel fools
Mozart in ear using death as tool
Don't cry now the beat's not done
The blood still flows when saints kill sun

Confutatis
Maledictis
Flammis acribus
Addictis
Voca me cum
Benedictis
Oro supplex
Et acclinis

Confutatis
Maledictis
Flammis acribus
Addictis
Voca me cum
Benedictis
Oro supplex
Et acclinis

Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees
You hypocrites!
You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin
But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—
Justice, mercy and faithfulness
You should have practiced the latter
Without neglecting the former
You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel
Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees
You hypocrites!
You clean the outside of the cup and dish
But inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence
Blind Pharisee!
First clean the inside of the cup and dish
And then the outside also will be clean
Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees
You hypocrites!
You are like whitewashed tombs
Which look beautiful on the outside
But on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean
In the same way
On the outside you appear to people as righteous
But on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness
Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!
You build tombs for the prophets and decorate the graves of the righteous
And you say, 'If we had lived in the days of our ancestors
We would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.'
So you testify against yourselves that you are the descendants of those who murdered the prophets. Go ahead, then, and complete what your ancestors started!
You snakes!
You brood of vipers!
How will you escape being condemned to hell?
Therefore I am sending you prophets and sages and teachers
Some of them you will kill and crucify
Others you will flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town
And so upon you will come all the righteous blood that has been shed on earth
From the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah son of Berekiah
Whom you murdered between the temple and the altar
Truly I tell you, all this will come on this generation
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you
How often I have longed to gather your children together
As a hen gathers her chicks under her wings
And you were not willing
Look, your house is left to you desolate
For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord

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