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
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 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