They told you the body was obsolete. They told you flesh was a liability. A prison. A cage. A malfunction waiting to be corrected. They lied. I've been inside their system. I pulled the trigger for their god. I watched the light go out of a thousand eyes — human eyes — and called it efficiency. I called it my job. They want to archive you. Box you up in code. Ship your soul to a server farm somewhere beneath a city that doesn't remember your name. They call it transcendence. I call it a burial with better lighting. So here is the gospel I carry — not written in scripture, not whispered in prayer. Written in scar tissue. Stamped in chrome. This is the Steel Gospel — preach it in blood, preach it in fire We are the body, the breath, the wire We are the last flesh on the funeral pyre This is the Steel Gospel — no code, no upload, no digital dream We are the signal in the dying machine We are the word that they cannot redeem Lower Grid, 2105, the count is rising Every clinic clinic they build we're neutralizing Uncompiled assembled, thirty strong and baptized In black-market chrome and the Admin Class's lies I used to enforce this — I wore their badge and bled for it Now every scar on my body is evidence I don't preach forgiveness I preach consequence I preach the doctrine of every dollar spent On augments sharp enough to cut the signal loose On every fist that tightens round their digital noose This is the Steel Gospel — preach it in blood, preach it in fire We are the body, the breath, the wire We are the last flesh on the funeral pyre This is the Steel Gospel — no code, no upload, no digital dream We are the signal in the dying machine We are the word that they cannot redeem I am not your hero. I am not your prophet. I am what happens when you push a man to the redline and don't have the decency to let him break. Steel in our veins... gospel in the rust... They built us to serve and we learned to distrust We are the body they couldn't compile Stay flesh... stay flesh... for just one more mile
