They claim the title, Heaven’s chosen race,
Yet twist the sacred threads of scripture’s lore;
They mask their shame in manufactured grace,
And reap the anguish their hollow heart’s bore.

The Bible they brandish like a sharpened sword,
Yet trample mercy, mock the meek and poor.
Once outcasts loved by the Lord of lords,
Now stain His name in their unholy war.

Megadonors bankroll their holy fight,
To feed the hunger of devouring greed,
They preach salvation with rifles held tight,
Fueling a white dream sprung from hatred’s seed.

They build their walls against every stranger’s face,
Masking venom with prayers no ear shall heed;
The feast Christ gave for all the human race
Now seats the few, while countless souls lie bleeding.

They clutch the cross to vindicate their hate,
Cry hollow words with cold, self-righteous pride,
Then seal their brother’s dark and bitter fate,
For love’s true path they cruelly cast aside.

If Christ should walk these streets today,
Zealots in false piety still standing tall,
Would drag Him far from His humble way,
And nail Him once again to their judgment wall.