[Intro] You preach with your hands folded But your fingerprints stay on the door [Verse 1] Sunday suit, clean collar, polished phrase You count every head while you count your praise Tell the room that heaven put you in charge Then you lock that office and the mask falls hard Little brown envelope under the ledger Sweet talk turns cold when you hold the lever You quote the book, then you bend every rule Call it holy water while it stains the suit [Pre-Chorus] You can fool the crowd for an hour or two But the locked-room truth keeps receipts on you [Chorus] You claim you’re Godly, but the closed door knows What you hide in the dark is the face that shows Raise your hands high, let the whole room see But a borrowed halo never made you clean You claim you’re Godly, hear the floorboards speak All that righteous thunder, all that rot underneath No throne, no title, no sacred disguise Can make a crooked heart look straight in private eyes [Verse 2] You bless the poor, then you skim from the plate Tell a scared young soul that their doubt is their fate Your voice gets soft when the cameras arrive Gets sharp as a blade when there’s no one outside Steel strings cry where the sermon should end Truth walks in wearing the face of a friend I don’t need fire falling out of the sky Your own quiet hallway already testified [Pre-Chorus] You can dress that lie in a tailored blue But the locked-room truth keeps receipts on you [Chorus] You claim you’re Godly, but the closed door knows What you hide in the dark is the face that shows Raise your hands high, let the whole room see But a borrowed halo never made you clean You claim you’re Godly, hear the floorboards speak All that righteous thunder, all that rot underneath No throne, no title, no sacred disguise Can make a crooked heart look straight in private eyes [Bridge] Take the gold off the frame Take the fear from the name If the good is real, it survives the light If it dies in the dark, it was never right [Final Chorus] You claim you’re Godly, but the closed door knows Every secret has a way it grows Raise your hands high, let the whole room see No borrowed halo gets to cover me You claim you’re Godly, hear the floorboards speak All that righteous thunder, all that rot underneath No throne, no title, no sacred disguise Can make a crooked heart look straight in private eyes [Outro] The room is empty now The lock is still warm And the truth doesn’t kneel To the shape of your form
