He stands at the door way of light His head resting in 
his cupped hands From this vantage point he swears to god 
he understands That those who don't praise his lord are 
sinful and unjust Wants to feel the touch of god even 
though he's lost his trust Blind by the light of 
propaganda flexing all it's might Selfish prayers are 
never answered still he says them every night And his 
bible is like a gun pointing it at his chosen ones Scare 
tactics to recruit them while they are young