Amorphis

Not thirsty am I for the blood
Of redeemer of thy greed
My hunger can't be satisfied
With flesh of thy nazarene
No gilded streets of heaven's grace
Entice me in thy speech
No holy mother doth condone
All your pillage war and greed
But know thee that all oceans worth
Of waters turned holy
Won't change the course of river
That runs inside of me