Stigmata

no more holy war
no more twisted kings
no gods worth your dying for
deny the martyrs cries
don't point your filthy finger
you sinning hypocrite
when it drips with blood
from inverted crosses slit

devoted lives
wasted cries
the church is burning before teary eyes
a reverend in a generals hat
shows no mercy with no steps back

gasoline poured into a chalice
you cant see through your hate and malice
strap the bombs to the congregation
to question why is a hideous contemplation

scapegoats nailed to flimsy crosses
best intentions cant withstand these losses
gods,
beguine,
hard to define
lets just say
they never meant it this way