Lyrics The Congregation - Meanstreak

The Congregation

Remember when there was a time
When you couldn’t congregate
When just one ruler took control
Of your moralistic fate
In helpless minds not free to think
Our music’s standing trial
The congregation’s losing sleep
Their words are turning vile
The jury’s tightly fisted hands
Are sporting huge erections
With eyes that cross and nostrils flared
They point in our direction
Tainted fumes of poison breath
Pollute the air with hate
It seems that their perception of reality’s
A little late
They’re the congregation, send your money, save your soul
Crusading what they choose to call
The generation curse
Narrow minds still preaching us
Not for better, but for worse
And what’s that constant number
At the bottom of the screen
Donate your whole bank account
For all your hopes and dreams
So if you’re down and full of doubt
And with his guidance you’ll find
That life is but a bubble
But what’s the need for money dear?
When love is at your door
Me think’s what you’re raging
Is a bloody holy war
They’re the congregation, send your money, save your soul
Hammer head flowers, spewing crow hate
Like ever searching ghosts, seeking goblin mate
Woodpeckers pecking, looking for a meal
Fate commands puppets like a gambler’s lucky wheel
The prosecution’s clamor is seeping through the walls
Dripping from the ceilings, creeping through the halls
Come forward take your vow, to help the cause
Time is of the essence, no more tug of war
Their sacrilegious evidence
Seems to be unreal
The ones who claim our motivation
Bears the devil’s seal
Just like the big bullies, in their glory
Looking for a fight
Obsessed with playing god
Not what’s wrong or right
There is no way to buy the rank
To rule eternity
Sorry Bud, it’s up to him
Not to you or me
And angels at their mercy
Have glorified this case
Excused them from the contest
Of the failing human race
They’re the congregation, send your money, save your soul
Remember when there was a time
When it was bad to congregate
When life was sentenced execution
By the magistrate
With stronger minds now free to think
It seems we’ve won our case
The jury’s somehow disappeared
Left without a trace
Archaic ways had left them blind
They had no alibi
Just hearts of hate and minds of fear
To use to get them by
We’ve all in common faults and fears
Of one kind or another
Remember what the good book says
And learn to love your brother
They’re the congregation, send your money, save your soul
They’re the congregation, send your money, save your soul