Lyrics

Verse 1**
*I’m a grenade with the pin still lodged in my teeth,*
*A half-built soldier, rusted, incomplete.*
*These hands forged idols from the shrapnel of shame,*
*My heart’s a trench where the rats chant my name.*
*I’ve worn my rebellion like a medal of rot,*
*But the uniform’s heavy, and the battle’s forgot.*
*So break me, Jehovah—shatter the mold!*
*This counterfeit courage is gettin’ too old.*

**Chorus**
*Kill the clay! Let the Potter’s fist fall!*
*Grind these bones to dust, rebuild me raw!*
*I’m a deserter in Your army, a traitorous rhyme—*
*Unmake the coward, forge me wartime!*
*Holy fire, melt the slag of my “*me*”,*
*Write Your orders in scars where the “*I*” used to be.*
*I’ll die in the kiln if it means I’ll arise—*
*A weapon of worship…*
*…not a wound in disguise.*

**Verse 2**
*I’ve dug my foxholes in the pulpits of pride,*
*Saluted the mirror where Your face should reside.*
*My prayers were blanks, my faith just a sheath,*
*For a blade I kept dulled out of fear of the heat.*
*But the Lion of Judah’s roar splits the night,*
*And I’m done playin’ dead in this skin-strangled fight.*
*So storm the barracks of my brittle resolve—*
*Your kingdom’s worth the chaos my death will involve.*

**Chorus**
*Kill the clay! Let the Potter’s fist fall!*
*Grind these bones to dust, rebuild me raw!*
*I’m a deserter in Your army, a traitorous rhyme—*
*Unmake the coward, forge me wartime!*
*Holy fire, melt the slag of my “*me*”,*
*Write Your orders in scars where the “*I*” used to be.*
*I’ll die in the kiln if it means I’ll arise—*
*A weapon of worship…*
*…not a wound in disguise.*

**Bridge**
*(Spoken-word growl over dissonant chords)*
*“You want transformation? Then sign the decree—*
*Let My scalpel carve out what you’ve begged Me to keep.*
*The old man’s a hostage, but My ransom’s been paid,*
*I don’t refurbish ruins…*
*…I detonate graves.”*

**Final Chorus**
*Kill the clay! Let the Potter’s fist fall!*
*Grind these bones to dust, rebuild me raw!*
*I’m a deserter in Your army, a traitorous rhyme—*
*Unmake the coward, forge me wartime!*
*Holy fire, melt the slag of my “*me*”,*
*Write Your orders in scars where the “*I*” used to be.*
*I’ll die in the kiln if it means I’ll arise—*
*A weapon of worship…*
*…not a wound in disguise.*

**Outro**
*(Half-time breakdown with gang vocals)*
*Now the kiln’s my cathedral, the smoke’s my new breath,*
*The old man’s a casualty, the new man’s Your threat.*
*March me into battle with Your cross as my crest—*
*I’m the dirt You shaped holy…*
*…now unleash Your artillery.*