[Verse 1] They handed me a book then asked me not to read the blood on every page and a name they say is evil every time pastors preach. Millions in the dust yet heaven stays serene. While only a few fell down below, now tell me what that means. They taught me fear was holy and pain was proof. But I can’t stand by a throne that feeds on so called cruel truth If wrath is called a virtue and silence is divine Then every prayer they sold me feels like a load of lies. [Chorus] Bodies in the floodwaters, the slaughter of the first born son's. Whole towns turned to ash by the hand we're told to trust. Plague on the doorsteps and smoke in the sky. If this is the holy way, I don't want anything to do with his kind. Holy stories have a throne covered in pain. The devil is the one I would praise, I'd rather preach his name. [Verse 2] They tell me to, "Fear the fallen one" but I count the deaths with my hands. While the holy one slays the world and they want me to understand. They said a fallen angel brought the ruin, brought the night. But I read the old pages and the sky drips with blood so bright. They taught me fear was holy they taught me pain was proof. But I can’t stand by a throne that they say I should approve. The devil is always the one to blame for the grief we've been fed. Then who caused the suffering for a mountain of innocent deaths? [Chorus] Bodies in the floodwaters, the slaughter of the first born son's. Whole towns turned to ash by the hand we're told to trust. Plague on the doorsteps and smoke in the sky. If this is the holy way, I don't want anything to do with his kind. Holy stories have a throne covered in pain. The devil is the one I would praise, I'd rather preach his name. [Bridge]] Who gets called the monster? Who gets crowned the light? If god gets a pass for the slaughters. Something's not quite right? God forgives evil souls who ask for forgiveness. While the devil punishes them for the evil they've committed. [Final Chorus] Bodies in the floodwaters, the slaughter of the first born son's. Whole towns turned to ash by the hand we're told to trust. Plague on the doorsteps and smoke in the sky. If this is the holy way, I don't want anything to do with his kind. Holy stories have a throne covered in pain. The devil is the one I would praise, I'd rather preach his name.
