A heroine, a deity On heroin or vanity To jack their personality Beyond normal humanity
A crowd of massed humanity Bows down and worships diligently. He's built a loyal following, And soon they steer him thoroughly.
But jealous man plots from the pews-- No need for valid righteousness One slightly truthful word set free Will turn the tides quite easily
Our accusations need not be What would bury mortal man-- The sins of our own deity Are tiny, but on these we stand
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands-- We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
So once upon the podium A crucifix we then erect And nail our hero heartily, Hands and feet, and bind his neck
The reason for our worship fades Our idol's drenched in his own blood Forgotten are the virtues that We valued beyond royalty
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands-- We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
With joy we dig his shallow grave, Anticipating pains to come We watch the wriggling dance of death And laugh, light-hearted, at death's fun
We've pounded out the joyous light; Our savior's buried now for years A legend now of time gone by, A martyr of forgotten tears
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands-- We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
