**THE HALO AND THE HORROR** [Verse 1] Gold cross swinging while the whole world burns, Sunday sermon, Monday no concern, Hands to heaven, eyes turned away, Children under rubble while the choirs still pray. Everybody saying, “Jesus got the wheel,” But nobody asking what the wounded feel, Scripture on the screen, supper on the plate, While another mother learns the language of a grave. Blessed be the comfortable, safe inside the spell, Calling silence “peace” while somebody lives through hell, Candles in the chapel, cameras catch the glow, But when the bombs start falling, everybody gotta go. [Pre-Chorus] Is it faith if mercy stops at the border? Is it love if profit gives the order? If Christ walked in with blood on His feet, Would we recognize Him—or cross the street? [Chorus] Everybody under Jesus Christ’s spell, Singing “all is well, all is well,” While the smoke climbs high and the headlines fade, And innocence gets buried beneath what we paid. Everybody wearing heaven like a shield, While the bodies overseas become numbers on a field. If you follow the Prince of Peace, then prove it somehow— Don’t praise love on Sunday and abandon it now. [Verse 2] Cross on the necklace, flag on the wall, “God bless us” loud while the missiles fall, Politicians pray before they sign the page, Then send another generation straight into the cage. We call it complicated, call it foreign affairs, Anything but children gasping desperate for air, Scroll past suffering, swipe into a joke, Sip another coffee while another city smokes. Maybe the spell ain’t Jesus—maybe Jesus would scream, Flip every table built on somebody’s grief, Maybe we confused the Christ with comfort and control, Put His name on an empire and forgot about the soul. [Pre-Chorus] He said blessed are the peacemakers—remember? Not blessed are the buyers feeding fire forever. If every human life is sacred in His sight, Why do we need permission to say slaughter isn’t right? [Chorus] Everybody under Jesus Christ’s spell, Singing “all is well, all is well,” While the smoke climbs high and the headlines fade, And innocence gets buried beneath what we paid. Everybody wearing heaven like a shield, While the bodies overseas become numbers on a field. If you follow the Prince of Peace, then prove it somehow— Don’t praise love on Sunday and abandon it now. [Bridge] No, I don’t want another holy alibi, Another folded hand beneath a burning sky, Give me faith with feet, give me mercy with a spine, Give me people brave enough to draw a human line. No more “thoughts and prayers” with the volume turned low, Love should move your body when you know what you know. Feed them, shield them, speak when silence pays— What good is resurrection if compassion stays in graves? [Final Chorus] Everybody says they’re under Jesus Christ’s spell— Then let the spell break hatred, let it empty out hell. Let it stop the cheering when the warplanes rise, Let it put a human face back behind our enemy’s eyes. If the cross means anything, let the meaning be clear: No child becomes expendable because they’re born over there. Prince of Peace, wake the sleeping somehow— If we really follow Jesus, then we have to follow **now**. [Outro] No halo without mercy. No gospel without grief. No worship worth the singing if it never becomes peace.
