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It’s called “Holy War”, “Jihad”,
Murder in the name of God.
Don’t you think that’s odd?
But what is a “Holy War”?
But a contradiction in terms for sure.

Since Caine killed Able,
The cards on the table,
Read “Dead Man’s Hand”.
Blood in the sand,
And blood on the Sun
By fools and tyrants wars are begun,
And not all the killing done,
Is in the name of country and freedom.

It’s the murder of a mother’s son,
The killing of a wife’s husband,
Tearing away of a child’s father or mother…
But God said to love one another,
Not to slay your sister or brother.

Rationalized evil deeds,
Planting foul seeds,
In our innocent young.
Handing children guns,
Taught to shoot the “Unholy Ones”,
Raised on a doctrine of hate,
To sacrifice themselves is their fate.

A “Holy Crusade” for Christianity…?
But there was no Christ in that insanity!
Thousands of years of war,
And what’s it all been for?
There are no real victors or winners,
Just losers, killers, and sinners.

Whether it’s a Holy Crusade for Christ,
Or Jihad in the name of God,
We all must pay the price.
If you kill for religion’s sake you’re a fraud.

Pretending to be doing God’s bidding,
But who do you think you are kidding?
It’s just murder for murder’s sake,
And it’s Satan who your soul will take…

God does not sanction the killing,
Rationalized in his name.
And Christ will not save those who are willing,
To murder innocents doing the same.

Religious zealots commit suicide,
Thinking they’ll still go to Heaven.
But they’re in for a surprising downward ride,
When it’s hell that they will wind up in.

For God is all about peace and love,
Only mankind is capable of hate.
A judgment will come down from above,
And all must accept their eternal fate.

Killing in the name of God or Christ,
Is like rolling snake eyes on the dice.
You can only really lose,
Not only your life, but your soul.
Eternal damnation is the toll. 
But if this is the path you choose, 
You may live inside a religious ruse,
And let the devil be your muse.
It’s absolute madness on the whole.

You’re flying in the face of God,
And don’t you think it’s a little bit odd,
That He keeps you at His arm’s length,
Though you try with all your strength.
You poor old wretched sod.
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