Gunpowder Psalms

The Bible said the meek shall rise, But I’ve only seen the strong survive. My prayers are written in smoke and lead, Every psalm I sing leaves someone dead.

Gunpowder psalms, burning loud, A choir of thunder, a preacher proud. No holy book can cleanse these hands, Just the echo of shots across the land.

The preacher spoke, but the words turned black, I found my gospel in the rifle’s crack. No angel’s hymn, no heaven’s psalm, Just the fire and steel that keeps me calm.

Gunpowder psalms, burning loud, A choir of thunder, a preacher proud. No holy book can cleanse these hands, Just the echo of shots across the land.

If God won’t hear a sinner’s prayer… Then the smoke will rise and take it there.

Gunpowder psalms, burning loud, A choir of thunder, a preacher proud. No holy book can cleanse these hands, Just the echo of shots across the land.

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