In our haste we crowned a king In our haste we bore his sin In our haste we saw him god In our haste; born again
Not in life but words of fiction Another fable carved in stone His crucifix a graven image Impotent faith, to die alone
A bastard son of a bastard god Stolen saviors of ancient tome Misshapen idols in manmade temples A bloodied hand across our mouths
Man the martyr; self appointed king Lied in blood this selfish sin Cast aside our sanity The trinity of filth and lies
His majestic pestilent form A rotted visage of our vanity
A cross a star a glyph Burnt into our flesh From our untimely birth Cast upon us until death And so we stand, ever waiting the end Eyes skyward, ever waiting the end Vacuous words read by naïve eyes Coaxed out of pages, best forgotten Cast a trillion shadows in their wake Lay waste to all that we know
Bloated apes feign ignorance Cloth to hide our guilt the stems Our murderous nature in pastel rouge This morality we attempt to fain
Man built God creates the veil It hangs before us all and waits Those who choose its warm caress Dignify this empty fate
angelic mythos cracked in the kiln Shards embedded in the mouths of liars Charged nature as unfit disfigured the sanctity of love Tore down all that is good, all that is whole