Excommunicate


Designer Pride. Hidden Lies.
Accustomed to hands held high.
Front row status recognized.
Yet no souls moved.

Protest signs. Words online.
Condemnation in our time.
Opinions dismissed against mine.
Cause you have "truth."

Why am I singing?
Why am I screaming?
Seems like everything you're seeing
Is everything that I don't believe in.


It's me and you. Yours vs. mine. 
The complications of our tribes.
We're just the blind leading the blind.
No one's fool proof.

This is where I start to break.
Where I take all I can take.
Where I'm not something I ain't.
Where I excommunicate.

Oh come to the altar. Won't your draw nigh?
Oh come to where interpretation must die.
Where tradition and dogma contend for whats right.
And where the Messiah is painted as white.

Historical context is lost to the past.
It's where mysteries lungs have breathed in their last.
And where science is treated just like a disease
Cause the only vaccine can come on your knees.

It's where the cross is draped in the stars and the stripes.
Where we forfeit our morals and instead claim our rights
To oppose who you love, where you're from, what you wear.
Where we substitute action for our thoughts and our prayers.

So come to the altar, why wont you give in?
Oh, it simply must be because of your sin
Or because of your pride, or because you're deceived.
Not because we gave nothing for you to believe.