And where martyrs stand the idols fall
but in my solitude I surrender
Where Judas lies the curtain is torn
I am the weaker here, the pretender
And the Blood will make angels of us all
Oh beyond comprehension
that He would choose one who seldom takes the call
straight to heart, defy convention
And our heroes are tangible and able
to keep our focus from the One
who bled and died in a halo of pain
labeled a fake, a heretic, while He is the true Son
And the Blood will make angels of us all
Oh beyond comprehension
that He would choose one who seldom takes the call
straight to heart, defy convention
Perfect Martyr for me
Perfect Martyr for you
