From God
theres an army of ideas
telling him to run to freedom
and to leave all those that need him behind
theres a crack in a boat
and we're stuck on a moat
waiting for the blood water to dry
theres an egg and a shell
and a soul to sell
and a spongey pink brain to fry
does this yolk runneth from the fear of the flesh, the gun
the father
the son
or the bride
or from God
can anybody see whats coming out of me
my poison anatomy
is cursed and blessed at the same time
so many feelings deceiving the healing
reaching for the ceiling
purge the source or let the boy die
there was a time when they tried to forge the sword
to fight the horde that held an escapable fate
its almost too late
the doomsday clocks about to stop
on your death day date
so listen close to the sound of the bullet
screaming towards your dreams from out of a turret
the snipers about to blow it
brains of shame and stains of pain
deliverance and grace
or death and reckoning
theres an army of ideas
telling him to run to freedom
and to leave all those that need him behind
theres a crack in a boat
and we're stuck on a moat
waiting for the blood water to dry
theres an egg and a shell
and a soul to sell
and a spongey pink brain to fry
does this yolk runneth from the fear of the flesh, the gun
the father
the son
or the bride
or from God
telling him to run to freedom
and to leave all those that need him behind
theres a crack in a boat
and we're stuck on a moat
waiting for the blood water to dry
theres an egg and a shell
and a soul to sell
and a spongey pink brain to fry
does this yolk runneth from the fear of the flesh, the gun
the father
the son
or the bride
or from God
can anybody see whats coming out of me
my poison anatomy
is cursed and blessed at the same time
so many feelings deceiving the healing
reaching for the ceiling
purge the source or let the boy die
there was a time when they tried to forge the sword
to fight the horde that held an escapable fate
its almost too late
the doomsday clocks about to stop
on your death day date
so listen close to the sound of the bullet
screaming towards your dreams from out of a turret
the snipers about to blow it
brains of shame and stains of pain
deliverance and grace
or death and reckoning
theres an army of ideas
telling him to run to freedom
and to leave all those that need him behind
theres a crack in a boat
and we're stuck on a moat
waiting for the blood water to dry
theres an egg and a shell
and a soul to sell
and a spongey pink brain to fry
does this yolk runneth from the fear of the flesh, the gun
the father
the son
or the bride
or from God
Credits
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