Spectrums of colors streak through
The window
Shining on the wooden benches that
Line up on the floor.

What is this really, where are we
really?
Who said this is really where
We find Him?

Judgment passes on the sinners
Tainting their minds
Taking importance and integrity and
Throwing them out the door

What is this really, where are we
really?
Who said this is really where
We find Him?

Man of cloth leads the way but not
through Him
He abandons the values, the reasons
Why we gather here

Instilling fear, not hope
Instilling anger, not joy
Instilling sin, not salvation

What is this really, where are we
really?
Who said this is really where
We find Him?

The windows are clouding, the purity
Is diminishing
Corruption raids the chapel.