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lirik lagu ark - christophony

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h-llo, my name’s christophany
i’m here to start the lift off; we
are primed with epistemology
that’s tonally probably inaudibly flawless:

we got this
he’s god this

however often he thoughtfully
splits the sea, theophany
we can’t plea for anomaly
and wait to see theology;

that’s why we’re trapped in cacophony
it’s spirituality’s sodomy
meritocracy’s falsity
you probably learned in homily… hah

we cautiously solemnly
loftily doggedly
teed our b-lls up to shoot…
for philosophy?

no

it’s dawned on me religiosity’s
hypocrisy with no fathering
it’s mediocrity
no apology

structure replaces unity
ruefully fleeing community
while god is there inside of me?
we got to start thinking vertically!

what do i mean? let me set the scene:

you’re hercules
lawfully laudably
lugging the frogs, bc
to pharaoh’s seat
see the comedy
aristophanes?

the twelve plagues ain’t greek mythology no more
they’re history’s ministry prophesy
instead of brutality, it’s making the blind see
it’s curing encephalopathy:

our job ain’t to haulage college knowledge
about saul of tarsus’s homage
it’s breaking from bondage
it’s abolishing your fallage

no more socrates mythologies;
sophistry, that’s blasphemy;
apostasy; awfully honestly
wrongfully agony

to think we have no authority…
if your priority’s theology
not christ the king
you’ll trip up on theogony

like majority’s progeny;
dorothy
leaving kansas without warranty
in a sorority that’ gossiping

instead of honestly happily
sapping out paucity
faultlessly solving colony’s dishonesty…
like a family with a deity

instead of philosophy’s bureaucracy;
a democracy of solitary aristocracy

until you see his monarchy
you’ll live and breathe

but die in the sea

because when oceans rise, your theology
and theocracy can’t set you free

resurrection

that’s your fee
and it’s paid already
and prayed up
stayed up

all night in gethsemane
all white for the wedding
all right like it’s redding
and tight with the son setting

our sins down in the grave
where they belong and sing the song
of the brave
that goes; “i am christophany.”

like sampson’s swift psalmistry
in this tree of knowledge where even
goliath sees he owes god an apology
that’s enough ontology i’ll ever need

because jesus christ wasn’t etymology
afraid of immorality
saucily tossing rocks at society
obsessed with dishonesty, no

he was an abnormality
irrationally ravishing partiality
incautiously cautioning auctioning of
doctrines proctoring inequality

his spirituality romantically liberates musicality;
opacity in intimacy, instead of the pharisee’s “berates…”

his hate is loving emphatically

don’t be a pharisee:

(cut: mortality’s lethality
there’s no vitality in normality’s neutrality mentality in this sodality
the externality of neutrality is b-n-lity, yeah, you see)

practicality’s not christianity
systematically’s not christ
i mean, immortality’s not the dream
and mere thinking’s not the way to get there

it’s got to be more than a set of beliefs, yo
than theatrically rationing conditional clemency, no;

conformity’s deformity’s informally boring
a holy moly hole in the horrible enormity of uniformity; minority’s not a gourmet tea

but, radically drastically waying fallacies from baptistries is
agony when sadducees’ prophecies say your sanct-ty’s apostasy…

if christ didn’t set us free
who are we?
jesus finished us on the tree
sin’s got no residency, at least for me

because freedom is a part of me
yeah… i am a christophany;
the expressed image of christianity
the prodigal son, blind to see

calamity made capacity
brutality to liberty
ephemerality to immortality;
a new mentality of sanity that’s validly vanity

about a slave become son
about someone given a shot
and you’re behind the gun
pull the trigger. pop

don’t get caught up in scholarly panoply of poverty, properly somber malarkey;
of scrutiny, a mutiny against newton’s seed that said things go up

don’t buy the lunacy of disunity that’s usefully fluent in crudity from demonic promiscuity that looks less like b-st–lity and more like bibliomancy

the idea that immunity stupidly’s nudity’s eulogy fruitless to euphony truthfully truant of trinity:

reputably wrong

professors and theologians can preach but
take a seat watch the fete’s feet’s feats teach
a humblebee b-mblebee dumb old beat humility;

acuity inexcusably ceases opportunely
in tune with fibonacci:
like numbers an infinite simile
abysmally

it’s all about proximity
near to virginity;
we’re made clean
i mean, please don’t deny this scheme;

like marley’s three birds you can gawk at a hawk from a walk away
call it a sock and pray, but it’s all talk, and until the day
you see for yourself the flock you’re mocking and shocking;
i’d be careful, bae
you might be playing the croc. the monster of lark

the man in the dark
feat on the lark and breathe in before death do you part
all the “heathens” in the heart that you stabbed

sounds like a bad idea to me
how about instead of wasting time spewing hate at other christians, much more your missions
you go make something of yourself;

gimme some distance

you’re on a mission

please would you listen

christ ain’t a fiction

why don’t you glisten

with love in the place of being anger, reactive
self-righteousness really isn’t attractive

i can’t explain the vain b-n-lity, lethality
fatality of dismally formally ignoring the supremacy of god, and lazily calling the will of god mendacity;

what if we shook hands with “i am love, i am good,”
and ran with it, instead of trying to build walls of cities
in fashions and factions and he never intended?
what if we decided jesus is the only thing worth knowing and we stopped lying to ourselves that we know anything else?

christianity’s not philosophy or religiosity it’s christophany:
we’re the demonstration, the explanation to the nations
that hate and fate’s duration’s cessation’s his dictation
our donation is our foundation of salvation

stop worrying about liturgies
start following the prince of peace;
the king of kings
because you are a christophany


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