software solutions for christian media
Album: Brainwashed
The door of the martyrs soon will be open.
The Church cannot change it, the Prophets have spoken.
All wedding vows are being broken.
Promises, promises--all empty tokens.
Images, images out of the past,
Who'll win my soul, Lord, there at the last?
Fell on my knees once, it hurt so I rose.
My woman, my woman dressed me up in white clothes.
She took off her ring and put it in my nose
And I follow her now wherever she goes.
But the great King of glory is calling my name
If I don't give my all soon, I won't be the same.
I know what I must do, Lord, kill my pride.
I got no place to run to, no place to hide.
My sins are before me on the altar they lay.
I know they'll destroy me--let us pray.
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