In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
A heroine, a deity
on heroin, or vanity
To jack their personality,
beyond normal humanity.
A crowd of massed humanity
bow and worship diligently.
He's built a loyal following
and they steer him thoroughly.
But jealous man plots from the pews,
no need for valid righteousness.
One slightly truthful word set free,
will turn the tides quite easily.
Our accusations need not be
what would bury mortal man.
The sins of our own deity are tiny,
but on these we stand.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
So once upon the podium,
a crucifix we then erect,
And nail our hero heartily,
hands and feet, we bind his neck.
The reasons for our worship fades,
our Idol drenched in his own blood,
Forgotten are the virtues that we,
valued beyond royalty.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
Such joy we dig his shallow grave,
anticipating pains to come.
We watch the wriggling dance of death,
and laugh light hearted at death's fun.
We pounded out the joyous light.
Our savior's buried now for years.
A legend now of time gone by,
A martyr of forgotten tears.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
on heroin, or vanity
To jack their personality,
beyond normal humanity.
A crowd of massed humanity
bow and worship diligently.
He's built a loyal following
and they steer him thoroughly.
But jealous man plots from the pews,
no need for valid righteousness.
One slightly truthful word set free,
will turn the tides quite easily.
Our accusations need not be
what would bury mortal man.
The sins of our own deity are tiny,
but on these we stand.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
So once upon the podium,
a crucifix we then erect,
And nail our hero heartily,
hands and feet, we bind his neck.
The reasons for our worship fades,
our Idol drenched in his own blood,
Forgotten are the virtues that we,
valued beyond royalty.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
Such joy we dig his shallow grave,
anticipating pains to come.
We watch the wriggling dance of death,
and laugh light hearted at death's fun.
We pounded out the joyous light.
Our savior's buried now for years.
A legend now of time gone by,
A martyr of forgotten tears.
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
We don't cry for the gods that die by our hands,
We throw stones if our gods take a stand
We create and destroy our stigmata martyrs, stigmata martyrs
Lyrics submitted by sfo62
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In a crucifiction ecstasy Lying cross chequed in agony Stigmata bleed continuously Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me
Stigmata oh you sordid sight Stigmata in your splintered plight Look into your crimson orifice In holy remembrance In scarlet bliss
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum Father, son, and holy ghost Stigmata Martyr
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