Pry open eyes on a Sunday morning,
Now I can see you´re overdressed.
Take a step inside and say you´re sorry
To your imaginary friend
I wear seven sins upon my chest
I´m not a victim to the text
Written in lies
You´d stake your life
On hollow faith that knows you best
To place the world in His hands

You´d abandon truth for comfort

This life is in your hands
You´re living for the end
These fables can´t explain
The beating in my chest
This life is in your hands
You´re living for the end
These myths they can´t explain
The air I´m breathing in
*I´ll die for my own sins*

Wrapped up in lies to satisfy
Your need to know why we exist
You lead a life where morals lie inside
A threat haunting your head
I wear seven sins upon my chest
I´m not a victim to the text
No false sense of existence

Abandon truth for comfort