Uploaded April 2026 | Updated September 2026, 6 days ago
Another original song from FellowshipOfTheMartyrs.com
LOTS more on our site.
Lyrics:
This is not a song.
This is not for fun.
This is deadly serious,
We're running out of time.
The Church is all messed up.
There's greed and there's lust.
There's ego and there's waste.
Division and fraud and hate.
The Bride's become a whore,
Chasing after the world
Hiring consultants to teach her
How to sell out all the more.
Buildings full of infants
Or worse, piles of death.
Sure that they're just fine.
While they decay, mold and rot
She's chasing false gods,
Of greed and feelings and status
The rich man held in awe
The poor man in contempt.
All she's built will be destroyed
It's all going to come down
When He's humbled her enough
Then He'll remember His vows
Shut your mouth, Church
Just close your pie hole
You've sounded off enough
No one cares anymore
There has been enough debate
You've proven you can argue
Now ZIP IT and submit
To Him who'll make you whole.
Blow the trumpets
Gather the limping remnant
Just hug and rejoice
Our husband is coming home.
Another original song from FellowshipOfTheMartyrs.com
LOTS more on our site.
Lyrics:
This is not a song.
This is not for fun.
This is deadly serious,
We're running out of time.
The Church is all messed up.
There's greed and there's lust.
There's ego and there's waste.
Division and fraud and hate.
The Bride's become a whore,
Chasing after the world
Hiring consultants to teach her
How to sell out all the more.
Buildings full of infants
Or worse, piles of death.
Sure that they're just fine.
While they decay, mold and rot
She's chasing false gods,
Of greed and feelings and status
The rich man held in awe
The poor man in contempt.
All she's built will be destroyed
It's all going to come down
When He's humbled her enough
Then He'll remember His vows
Shut your mouth, Church
Just close your pie hole
You've sounded off enough
No one cares anymore
There has been enough debate
You've proven you can argue
Now ZIP IT and submit
To Him who'll make you whole.
Blow the trumpets
Gather the limping remnant
Just hug and rejoice
Our husband is coming home.










