Martyrs

The beasts would only lick their feet
So they were taken to the scaffold
At a busy nearby street
The holy ghost dressed her in white
Then she lost her head by her father’s hand
And then she saw the light
The vultures would not touch him
So he’s bathed in liquid lead
The angels took him home though
Guarded him until he was dead
Something to die for
Oh, can there be?
There has to be
First sentenced to the brothel
They would cut her breasts off
But she’d want to die as an apostle
To the holy city’s gate
They would take him, stone him
Gladly he would take his chosen fate
Skinned, buried alive, axed, racked and beaten with a stick
Boy, it makes you wonder who came up with all this shit
Something to die for
Oh, can there be?
There has to be
You have been ready
For a long time
Turn weakness to power
Well, brother, it’s time