[Verse 1] God made the world in seven-day sprints, Or six, or two — the draft still prints. One book says animals, one says man, Feels like a reboot with no clear plan. [Chorus] Demons are hot like runway queens, Angels look like nightmare machines. Billions of eyes in a burning ring, But Hallmark paints them like they model for Spring. [Gospels: You Can [Not] Sync the Timeline] [Verse 2] One says a census, one says a star, Maps can’t even track where they are. Shepherds or wise men? Depends the app, It’s Bible roulette — spin the recap. [Bridge] Judas rage-quit by hanging his neck, Or maybe he slipped? Depends on the text. Faith alone or grind those works, Romans or James — patch note quirks. [Chorus] Demons are hot like influencers’ posts, Angels are eldritch, not Sunday’s hosts. If heaven’s casting got swapped somehow, Then church murals got it backwards — wow. [Revelation: Endgame Cutscene] [Verse 3] Horsemen ride like Fortnite skins, Trumpets drop like dubstep spins. Beast with heads or horns or both, Bad translation in the oath. [Final Chorus] Demons are gorgeous, the angels grotesque, But stained glass flipped it — PR at best. If truth updates every time you scroll, Maybe the Bible’s just patch notes for your soul.
