how can heaven be hell [NDC77]

[Intro] How can Heav’n be Hell? How can Heav’n be Hell? Tell’me… [Hook] How can Heav’n be Hell if them angels still dwell in it? Haloes drip gold but ain’t no soul really livin’ in it. Saint Peter got a meter on my spirit ev’ry minute, Got’me feelin’ like foreva just a sentence, no limit. How can Heav’n be Hell? Tell’me how, tell’me why. Why the choir sound alive while the dead seem more alive? Why th’ Almighty light got me coverin’ my eyes? Why eternity so heavy if it’s s’posed ta make us fly? [Verse 1] Clouds under my feet but the ground don’t feel holy, Ev’rybody know th’ script, ev’rybody actin’ like they know me. Broad squad, applaud God, nod hard, march slowly, More they worship perfection, less th’ whole thing look holy. Soft purr in the fur of a seraph when she pass by, Lucifer stirred up th’ room, got the whole place capsized. One word ‘bout her turned t’ rumors an’ slurs, Now they judgin’ who we were by th’ worst thing they heard. Ev’ry angel got an angle hid under th’ feathers, Ev’ry smile look warm till ya read between th’ letters. Ev’rybody sayin’ Heav’n last foreva’n ever, Ain’t nobody explain why foreva sound like pressure. Gold gates, gold floors, gold rays, gold skies, Gold chains lookin’ like blessin’s in disguise. S’posed ta feel free but my soul won’t rise, Higher that I climb, more they supervise. [Pre-Hook] Saint Peter… Gatekeeper… Dream reader… Truth teacher… Ev’ry answer gettin’ weaker… Ev’ry staircase gettin’ steeper… [Hook] How can Heav’n be Hell if them angels still dwell in it? Haloes drip gold but ain’t no soul really livin’ in it. Saint Peter got a meter on my spirit ev’ry minute, Got’me feelin’ like foreva just a sentence, no limit. How can Heav’n be Hell? Tell’me how, tell’me why. Why the choir sound alive while the dead seem more alive? Why th’ Almighty light got me coverin’ my eyes? Why eternity so heavy if it’s s’posed ta make us fly? [Verse 2] Asmodeus smilin’ like Amadeus playin’ classics, Said power never change, it just change how it mask it. First they praise us, then betray us when it’s advantageous, Turn th’ nameless into famous just t’ keep th’ crowd distracted. Almighty deity speakin’ in divine speech, Promisin’ serenity while demandin’ complete peace. Aphrodite couldn’t sweeten what th’ soul keeps, Deepest human questions get deleted from th’ dream. Saint Peter, gatekeeper, dream reader, truth teacher, Heat seeker, soul seeker, diggin’ deeper by th’ kilometer. Ev’ry answer gettin’ weaker, ev’ry doubt catch fever, Ev’ry staircase gettin’ steeper ev’ry time I get nearer. Tell’me why ev’ry rebel got kicked from th’ premises, Why ev’ry independent thought treated like a menace is. If Heav’n really Heav’n, why it scared of questions then? Why obedience th’ measure of celestial excellence? [Bridge] Maybe Hell ain’t below… Maybe Hell wear white robes… Maybe Hell smell like roses… Maybe Hell never closes… Maybe Hell ain’t th’ fire… Maybe Hell’s th’ requirement… Maybe Hell’s livin’ foreva… When you’re tired… [Verse 3] Bell toll, shell souls, pale glow on th’ skyline, Angels sing sweet but somethin’ don’t sound right. Haloes hang low, cast shadows in th’ limelight, Whole thing shine bright, still feel like a blindside. God, flawed? Nah… Fraud? Maybe… Whole squad prayin’ while they sellin’ out daily. Rod in th’ hand, jaw tight, talk crazy, Say it’s all love but control get disguised lately. Lucifer whisper, “Look closer, don’t miss it.” Truth hit different when th’ people got a vested interest. Choir keep singin’, but I hear what they skip in it, One wrong question and they act like you’re sick wit it. Foreva and ever, that’s what they keep sellin’, But foreva get heavy when th’ doors ain’t never open. What if perfection just another word for control? What if paradise got a price on your soul? [Final Hook] How can Heav’n be Hell when th’ bells keep ringin’? When th’ angels keep singin’ but nobody listenin’? When th’ light get bright enough t’ blur all th’ differences? When eternity’s a prison built with beautiful intentions? How can Heav’n be Hell? Maybe that’s what it is. A paradise so perfect that it forget what livin’ is. An’ I’m standin’ at th’ gate while Saint Peter take measurements, Wonderin’ if foreva was th’ blessin’ or th’ punishment. [Outro] How can Heav’n be Hell? How can Heav’n be Hell? How can Heav’n be Hell… Tell’me…