Lies of the Old

You speak of eternity
In pure happiness
Or terrible agony
But I choose to go against thee

O ye god of old
Who sits upon the throne of gold?
Certainly not you
Of my hatred you have no clue

You lie to the masses
They buy your broken passes
To your kingdom,lined with gold
O ye wicked god of old

You blame it on the adversary
But your lie is unnecessary
For it is you that created him
And forced us into untimely sin

You rebuke us for what we do
But we must rebuke only you
Have you forgotten the words thy spoke?
Of how our bodies shall never be broke?

You lie and lie more still
Our bodies lie upon this hill
You lied to us in your sacred text
My soul, it fears for what comes next