Stigmata Martyr

A heroine, a deity On Heroin, or vanity To jack their personality Beyond normal humanity A crowd of massed humanity Bows down and worships diligently He's built a loyal following And so they steer him thoroughly But jealous man plots from the pews No need for valid righteousness One slightly truthful word set free Will turn the tides quite easily Our accusations need not be What would bury mortal man The sins of our own deity Are tiny, but on these we stand We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our Stigmata Martyrs Stigmata Martyrs So once upon the podium A crucifix we then erect And nail our hero heartily Hands and feet, and bind his neck The reason for our worship fades Our Idol drenched in his own blood Forgotten are the virtues that We valued beyond royalty We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our Stigmata Martyrs Stigmata Martyrs Such joy we dig his shallow grave Anticipating pains to come We watch the wriggling dance of death And laugh light hearted at death's fun We've pounded out the joyous light Our savior's buried now for years A legend now of time gone by A martyr of forgotten tears We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our Stigmata Martyrs Stigmata Martyrs We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our Stigmata Martyrs Stigmata Martyrs We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands We throw stones if our gods take a stand We create and destroy our Stigmata Martyrs Stigmata Martyrs