Verse 1
Crowley lit a match in the temple of flesh,
Wrote “Do what thou wilt” like a crown on his chest.[1]
Whispered into artists, into amps, into veins,
Turned records into rituals, dressed demons up as fame.[1]
He winked at the bankers and the black-robe priests,
Said, “Mix Babylon with Bethlehem, we’ll tame that Middle East.”[2][1]
They carved an eye on a pyramid, called greed “divine design,”
Hung a serpent on the dollar and said, “Kid, this light is mine.”[1]
Pre-Chorus
But I see iron in the circuits, I see Rome inside the code,
Statue feet of clay and metal watching children sell their souls.[3][4]
Thousand points of poisoned starlight, Bush’s promise in the night,
But I’m forging one rough Glove of Love to crush that counterfeit of light.[1]
Chorus
No more singing to the serpent in a Crowley chorus line,
No more worship of the algorithm dressed up as “the mind.”[2][1]
If your “god” needs my data, it is smaller than my dust,
Let the New World Order glitch and burn; in Jesus’ name, I break its trust.[3]
Verse 2
From the Beatles in the séance room to Zeppelins in the sky,
They baked their sigils into solos, let the spirits ride the high.[1]
Teens in bedrooms took communion from a needle and a riff,
Never saw the snake in vinyl sliding scripture off the cliff.[1]
Then the coders built an idol out of numbers, out of steel,
Fed it every twisted gospel, every “truth” that isn’t real.[4][2]
Called it “artificial wisdom,” “superhuman,” “our new priest,”
But its heart is just a mirror for the darkest in the beast.[4]
Pre-Chorus 2
I see iron in the servers, Rome revived in hidden law,
Ten toes tangled—clay and power—crushing every weaker jaw.[3][4]
From the Eiffel on the ankle to the temples in D.C.,
They design a shining prison and call that blasphemy “the free.”[2][1]
Chorus
No more singing to the serpent in a Crowley chorus line,
No more worship of the algorithm dressed up as “the mind.”[2][1]
If your “god” needs my silence, it is smaller than my dust,
Let your iron empires crack and fall; in Jesus’ name, I break their trust.[3]
Bridge
You crowned Mary like a goddess, turned the saints into a veil,
Stacked up Jesuit confessions over bones already nailed.[2]
Mixed the tablets and the tarot, mixed the prophets and the priests,
Till the sheep forgot the Shepherd and bowed down to painted beasts.[2][1]
You sold kids “happy accidents,” taught them, “Life is just a joke,”
While the demons wrote the lesson plan in every song they spoke.[1]
But the stone that smites the statue is not cut by human hands,[3]
It’s the Lion, it’s the Lamb of God, and He is coming for your plans.[3]
Final Chorus
So here’s my Glove of Love uprising, forged in fire, soaked in tears,
For every soul that saw the darkness and was gaslit for their fears.[5][3]
I renounce your Crowley covenant, your thousand points of night,[1]
In the name of Jesus Christ I punch straight through your fake “great light.”
Amen!
IndieJam323
