Die Nacht mein Freund

Oh Lord, you sent me countless mirrors
to gaze into my soul,
some harsh and cutting,
others tender, and some smelled of betrayal.

I took the challenge, yet you gave me another task,
the messenger who would not bow,
who would never yield to the weight
of showing all my surrender.

Step by step I’m learning who I am,
embracing farewells and transformation,
knowing I’m no prophet in my own land,
and that I must flee this war.

I am a prophet, my healing energy shines,
Jesus, my teacher, walks with me in darkness,
when they throw a corpse and the order is given,
for the persecution,
born of betrayal.

They say two men will give the order,
they say they want me dead,
because I spoke what you gave me,
and I refused to hide your truth.

Oh Lord, you spoke to me at night,
and I wrote down every word,
yet I forgive you, Lord,
for you delight in seeing yourself in me.

Let them do as they will,
for you sent Jesus for me.

Judas watched from shadowed corners,
under the guise of false freedom,
my sin was trying to save them,
from the unseen calamity.

Oh Lord, I sank to the darkest deep,
while demons fought to steal my voice,
and I kept breaking, piece by piece,
‘till only my lonesome shadow stood, afraid to face the light.

They say two men will give the order,
they say they want me dead,
because I spoke what you gave me,
and I refused to hide your truth.

Oh Lord, you spoke to me at night,
and I wrote down every word,
yet I forgive you, Lord,
for you delight in seeing yourself in me.

Let them do as they will,
for you sent Jesus for me.

and no one is a prophet in their own city.

A prophet is without honor in their own town

Produced by Mark Xenophontos

Lyrics by Mark Xenophontos

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Nostalgia's bleeding out
Blockbuster's dead and cold
Netflix killed our Friday nights
Stories left untold

Hollow souls and hearts for sale
I remember better days

When you could touch, when you could feel
With your hands something real
Now the static fills my head
But hope ain't buried, love's not dead

Hollywood feeds us their lies
Auto-tune and compromise
Plastic skin and vacant stares
Nobody really cares

Lost and searching, truth grows pale
I remember simpler ways

When you could touch, when you could feel
With your hands something real
Now the static fills my head
But hope ain't buried, love's not dead

Remember when we burned so bright
Before they stole our Friday nights
Now I'm screaming through the void
For something they can't destroy
Something they can't destroy

I still touch, I still feel
With these hands something real
Cut the static from my head
Hope ain't buried, love's not dead
Hope ain't buried, love's not dead

Something real, something real
Love's not dead, love's not dead
Something real, love's not dead
Something real

Wilde Zeit

Serum 114

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