[Verse 1:]
Heaven help the souls who come back home
but still left empty-handed
forgive the ones they met
and they reject the ones they left
Forgive them for the hearts misled by
broken promise after promise
Snake oil salesmen peddle truth and
flee your land to find clean conscience
Don't strike me down
Don't I cast out demons?
(I said) Don't strike me down
Don't I cast out demons in your name?
[Refrain:]
Lovely words from crippled minds
blood is on your hands
perfect words from filthy minds
go home
go home
[Verse 2:]
Heaven help the souls who come back home
Unmoved and none the wiser
forget the ones they met
and they resent the ones they left
forgive them for their sick attempts to
live their dreams while crushing others
Snake oil salesmen rob you blind and
flee your land and run for cover
Don't strike me down
Ain't I your faithful servant?
(I said) Don't strike me down
Don't I cast out demons in your name?
[repeat refrain]
[Heath McNease:]
I sell a product I ain't even seen
I spit a few sixteens, maybe drop a 3:16
I count the ticket stubs and merch before I even leave
and brought some friends just so they see who they don't need to be
I push a fearful product Mama used to use a lot
I whore myself to girls who think it's cute I'd choose their God
And I cover songs by men I find no true connection with
And I serve a body that could care less if I'm next to it
Exchange rate, because the dollar'll just call right out t'you
The same states I loved will take that pledge you made and clown you
A televangelist--Willy Loman peddles anthemic
proud to be American dreck, until he heads to Canada
And lies about the t-shirt shipments in his trunk, like,
"Nah, it's all promotional"
"Isn't this a little bit much?"
You can search me like a liar
Man, I've been a liar for a living
I lie to women, men and children,
telling them I've been forgiven
[Heir Jordan:]
Shape-shifting snow on this road coats the October night
driving overnight should be worth it, and guys, I hope you're right
This apathetic fog and the cold is intense
and these crusading headlights are my only defense
I said my piece, and I turned my pitch in
And I'm not even sure of all the terms and conditions
The condition that I'm in just don't seem worth the mission
Mind rambles while I pitch camp, starin' at the ceilin'
Like, I know I've got a purpose, but is this it?
Is this a sign that I should quit, or just a testing of the vision?
Door to door we led the people in some half-remembered chorus
Sometimes it seems they made the call and waited to ignore us
Soon as the door shuts, it's an interrogation
I spent a year looking for signs, and all they said is "vacant"
In our own way, we offered up a weathered "amen"
and what effect we've had is left to heaven's estimation
[Isaac Knox:]
What has this ride of mine accomplished?
When did I decided I've got this?
Did I assign a price on God, yet I won't buy my product?
Idolize the conquest that my arrival's promised
But 9-5's are kind of nice when driving by an office
As I ride all night from Moncton, with a fight inside my mind between
What the life of Christ has taught us, and the lies of my subconscious
Saying the Bible's sci-fi nonsense--out of the sky like flying saucers
I'll try to find some guiding light in highway signs to progress
'til on stage, as an emcee, when rapping for teens,
I'm safe, and I'm healthy and I'm happy, it seems
The times I feel His presence I know I'm fulfilled with blessings
but there's no place more empty than the gaps in-between
I finally learned the lesson that was taught to us:
that if He's not enough, then I want too much
The man I am today would be a hero to me at 15 years old
And that's cool to accomplish but I got more to do, so here goes nothing
