This is it. Tear down the towers

I'm the sorry architect of towers
Tall obelisk of deeds
Stacked toward heaven

I'm the high priest of bright flames
And spotted calves
A self-satisfied incense my praise

Tear down the towers.
Remove the alters and high places
Bow low and know
There is no good, no justice
Wrenched from your own blood.

Lay at the alter of His feet
Offer up your hopes
Your dreams, your expectations
Watch His fiery embrace refine
Watch the temporal flesh of your desires
Liquify, turn to precious metal

I'm the sorry architect of towers
High priest of bright, empty flames
Bowing low I know He hears my prayers.