those on earth who hold the most expose us every hour
so why should I lean down and bow for a god who has all power
compete in song and architecture, and lock your gilded doors
you can feed the world but you'd rather bleed it for His wars
this is not some outside view, a pointed finger from afar
I am a preacher's son who one by one will show you every scar
there is a machine shaped like a cross that's gutted out our history
in the name of love and righteousness and filling out the mystery
indoctrinated by those men who taught me how to hate
look down upon those other "them" who question and debate
"love each other" oft gets lost among the many sins
no faithful care to count the cost so long as their side wins
twelve men feared a storm at sea, annoyed he calmed the waves
but millions die by tsunami, and Jesus doesn't save
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