Hermeneutic Novocaine

You scrape the mold from the rotting cheese
And tell me to get down on my knees
You pour hot water on the dust
A quick-soup faith, a neon trust
You patch the cracks with a plastic smile
And walk me down your polished aisle

Insert the coin, recite the line!
Quote the verse, and I'll be fine!
But I won't drink it

He is the same, but He’s not a machine!
He won't fit in your plastic routine!
You want a healed egoist, shiny and bright
But a heart of flesh bleeds in the night!
No, He is not your coffee machine!

You quote the texts in glowing red
He is the same, that's what you said
But look at the fathers who walked before
Dragged in chains 'cross the arena floor!
Roasted, torn, and hacked to bone
Just a protein snack on the stepping stone!
And the One who formed the beast’s own frame
Yeah, He is today and forever the same!

You want to heal my broken pride
You want to keep the pain outside
But the broken spirit is the sacrifice
I won't buy your cheap advice
Let it bleed
Let it break

Let the plow tear up the ground!

He is the same, but He’s not a machine!
He won't fit in your plastic routine!
You want a healed egoist, shiny and bright
But a heart of flesh bleeds in the night!
No, He is not your coffee machine!

Not a machine
We were the lion's snack!
Aletheia!

You built a stage, you bought the lights
You cast your vision in the night
You need a crowd to feed the brand
You hold the mic, you wave your hand
You read the metrics, count the gold
Another franchise to be sold
You call it grace, you call it fire
But you’re just building an empire!

Draw them in, make them stay
Twist the truth the corporate way!
Diastrepho!

You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!

I read the words from ancient days
Before the smoke and mirror maze
He didn't ask for silver rings
He didn't act like earthly kings
He took the towel, He washed the feet
He faced the wolves upon the street
No VIP, no green room door
Just blood and dust upon the floor!

I coveted no man's silver or gold
These hands ministered to my necessities

Show me your calloused hands!
Show me your scars!
You can't buy the Spirit with a corporate card!
Show me your hands!

You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!

Down! Down! Down!
Put down the crown!

You got the diploma, you know the Greek
You studied the answers before I could speak
You looked at my ruins, you looked at my pain
And washed it away with a holy refrain
Three little footnotes, a quote from the past
To keep your theology safe under glass
You polish the outside, you cover the smell
And preach a bright heaven while I am in hell!

Explain it away, explain it away
Don't let the Aletheia ruin your day

Hermeneutic Novocaine!
A textbook cure for a bleeding vein!
You're numbing the truth to protect your design
But the blood on the altar is yours and it's mine!
I don't want your anesthetic!
I want the fire!

You sit like the friends who came down to Job
With a self-righteous tear and a scholarly robe
“You must have a sin you're hiding inside
The Maker is just, so it's your fault you cried”
You analyze tears with a logical chart
To silence the warning that rings in your heart!

The needle is jumping!
The compass is wild!
You cannot explain away the tears of a child!
Take off the robe!
Throw away the degree!
Come down in the ashes and suffer with me!

Hermeneutic Novocaine!
A textbook cure for a bleeding vein!
You're numbing the truth to protect your design
But the blood on the altar is yours and it's mine!
I don't want your anesthetic!
I want the fire!

Keep your novocaine
Give me the truth
Aletheia!

You saw the snare
The quiet call to step down
To let the ego fall, to surrender the crown
But you are sharp
You read the room
You used the light to build a comfortable tomb

You analyzed the risk, then moved the warning sign
You took the narrow gate and made the edges shine
A calculated grace, a SMART and bounded goal
You kept the system perfect, but you starved the soul
You slipped the knot with a psychological key
And called it freedom, so the world could see

It makes perfect sense
It reads so well
A brilliant management
Of a private hell

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You justify the armor, you protect the skin
But are you really sure this is how you win?

You took the holy sword to guard your fragile pride
A theological excuse to turn around and hide
Commandment zero: You claim the absolute throne
“I am who I am,” you declare it on your own
You play the wise defender, keeping out the cold
But all your clever reasons leave the truth untold

It makes perfect sense
It reads so well
A brilliant management
Of a private hell

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You justify the armor, you protect the skin
But are you really sure this is how you win?

The sky isn't clapping for your great escape
The heavens aren't impressed by the rules you shape
You outsmarted the pain, you outsmarted the loss
You outsmarted the shadow of the foolish cross
But the field is dead!

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You kept the grain of wheat right inside your hand
The smartest dead man in a barren land

Are you sure?

You scrape the mold from the rotting cheese
And tell me to get down on my knees
You pour hot water on the dust
A quick-soup faith, a neon trust
You patch the cracks with a plastic smile
And walk me down your polished aisle

Insert the coin, recite the line!
Quote the verse, and I'll be fine!
But I won't drink it

He is the same, but He’s not a machine!
He won't fit in your plastic routine!
You want a healed egoist, shiny and bright
But a heart of flesh bleeds in the night!
No, He is not your coffee machine!

You quote the texts in glowing red
He is the same, that's what you said
But look at the fathers who walked before
Dragged in chains 'cross the arena floor!
Roasted, torn, and hacked to bone
Just a protein snack on the stepping stone!
And the One who formed the beast’s own frame
Yeah, He is today and forever the same!

You want to heal my broken pride
You want to keep the pain outside
But the broken spirit is the sacrifice
I won't buy your cheap advice
Let it bleed
Let it break

Let the plow tear up the ground!

He is the same, but He’s not a machine!
He won't fit in your plastic routine!
You want a healed egoist, shiny and bright
But a heart of flesh bleeds in the night!
No, He is not your coffee machine!

Not a machine
We were the lion's snack!
Aletheia!

You built a stage, you bought the lights
You cast your vision in the night
You need a crowd to feed the brand
You hold the mic, you wave your hand
You read the metrics, count the gold
Another franchise to be sold
You call it grace, you call it fire
But you’re just building an empire!

Draw them in, make them stay
Twist the truth the corporate way!
Diastrepho!

You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!

I read the words from ancient days
Before the smoke and mirror maze
He didn't ask for silver rings
He didn't act like earthly kings
He took the towel, He washed the feet
He faced the wolves upon the street
No VIP, no green room door
Just blood and dust upon the floor!

I coveted no man's silver or gold
These hands ministered to my necessities

Show me your calloused hands!
Show me your scars!
You can't buy the Spirit with a corporate card!
Show me your hands!

You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!

Down! Down! Down!
Put down the crown!

You got the diploma, you know the Greek
You studied the answers before I could speak
You looked at my ruins, you looked at my pain
And washed it away with a holy refrain
Three little footnotes, a quote from the past
To keep your theology safe under glass
You polish the outside, you cover the smell
And preach a bright heaven while I am in hell!

Explain it away, explain it away
Don't let the Aletheia ruin your day

Hermeneutic Novocaine!
A textbook cure for a bleeding vein!
You're numbing the truth to protect your design
But the blood on the altar is yours and it's mine!
I don't want your anesthetic!
I want the fire!

You sit like the friends who came down to Job
With a self-righteous tear and a scholarly robe
“You must have a sin you're hiding inside
The Maker is just, so it's your fault you cried”
You analyze tears with a logical chart
To silence the warning that rings in your heart!

The needle is jumping!
The compass is wild!
You cannot explain away the tears of a child!
Take off the robe!
Throw away the degree!
Come down in the ashes and suffer with me!

Hermeneutic Novocaine!
A textbook cure for a bleeding vein!
You're numbing the truth to protect your design
But the blood on the altar is yours and it's mine!
I don't want your anesthetic!
I want the fire!

Keep your novocaine
Give me the truth
Aletheia!

You saw the snare
The quiet call to step down
To let the ego fall, to surrender the crown
But you are sharp
You read the room
You used the light to build a comfortable tomb

You analyzed the risk, then moved the warning sign
You took the narrow gate and made the edges shine
A calculated grace, a SMART and bounded goal
You kept the system perfect, but you starved the soul
You slipped the knot with a psychological key
And called it freedom, so the world could see

It makes perfect sense
It reads so well
A brilliant management
Of a private hell

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You justify the armor, you protect the skin
But are you really sure this is how you win?

You took the holy sword to guard your fragile pride
A theological excuse to turn around and hide
Commandment zero: You claim the absolute throne
“I am who I am,” you declare it on your own
You play the wise defender, keeping out the cold
But all your clever reasons leave the truth untold

It makes perfect sense
It reads so well
A brilliant management
Of a private hell

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You justify the armor, you protect the skin
But are you really sure this is how you win?

The sky isn't clapping for your great escape
The heavens aren't impressed by the rules you shape
You outsmarted the pain, you outsmarted the loss
You outsmarted the shadow of the foolish cross
But the field is dead!

Are you sure it’s as clever as you think?
Are you sure you’re the master of the brink?
You worship at the altar of the plausible mind
Leaving the foolishness of the cross behind
You kept the grain of wheat right inside your hand
The smartest dead man in a barren land

Are you sure?