Blackout Sermons

Oh. Preacher with a smile, pockets deep as the grave. Selling tickets to heaven while the lost misbehave. Golden chalice full of venom, holy lies on the Page. Every verse he spits is another cage. Lights dim in the chapel, but the vault's well-lit. Every prayer's a product, every soul's a hit. The choir sings loud, but the truth stays mute. While the wolves wear robes and the sheep stay Cute. Blackout sermons, the lights go cold. Every word you preach is a chain you hold. You don't speak for God, you just sell the Fear. But the truth burns bright when the dark Draws near. They baptize the broken in a river of fraud. Put the poor on their knees while they play As God. Every sin's got a price, every grace Is for sale. And the cross is a flag In a holy jail. I've seen mothers cry while the plate gets passed. Watch hope turn to ash in the preacher's grasp. If the gates of heaven got a guard with A fee. Then the only true saints are the Ones left free. Blackout sermons, the lights go cold. Every word you preach is a chain you hold. You don't speak for God, you just sell the Fear. But the truth burns bright when the dark Draws near. Pull the curtain back, let the people see. That the Holy Ghost ain't your property. If salvation's real, it don't cost a dime. And the devil wears silk while you steal my Time. Blackout sermons, the lights go cold. Every word you preach is a chain you hold. You don't speak for God, you just sell the Fear. But the truth burns bright when the dark Draws near. Ring the bells for the final lie. 'Cause the blackout sermons are bound die. Ring the bells for the final lie. 'Cause the blackout sermons are bound to die. Ring the bells. Ring the bells. Oh.