Heretics & Killers

They call me the man with the blood of Christ, honestly,

but tonight I drink with heathens and the finest of our blasphemies

in wine there's truth but in silence there's surrender

a screaming for the silence in stunned suspicious terror



built a temple in my life and used God to seal the pillars

after twenty years of fighting young heretics and killers

I watched my temple fall to pieces (at the first sign of oncoming weather)

I fell to my knees just like Jesus in the cave

I knew i would die by my lips could only say:



"I am not your son so why have you forsaken me?"



There's a hole in my heart but it just makes me unholy.



Crucified that night and walked away with alter-ego

Like the prison priest who preaches his dead and buried gospel,

while my faith's in ruins my duty breathes strong.

I'm a parrot in a cage saying prayers to belong



To a textbook of my crying, lying, dying history;

a time so full of life that I was anything but me.