TITLE: SAME OLD IDOLS
ARTIST: THE NAZARENE

[INTRO]

Wood.

Stone.

Gold.

Glass.

Code.

Same old altar.

Different costume.

Wake up.

[VERSE 1]

They carved the tree, then bowed to the block,
cooked with the branch, made a god from the stock.
Isaiah saw it with thunder and grief,
half warms the room, half becomes belief.

Jeremiah laughed at the forest pole,
silver on wood with no breath in its soul.
Nailed to the floor so it would not fall,
then nations trembled when the priests would call.

Psalms said eyes but never see,
ears but never hear, mouths with no decree.
Feet that cannot walk, hands that cannot save,
and those who trust them become the same.

That is the ancient diagnostic scan,
the MRI of the heart of man.
We do not just make idols from stone,
we make them from whatever we want to own.

Egypt had gods for the river and sky,
Babylon raised gold and commanded the eye.
Rome built spectacles, crowds and fame,
Caesar’s face stamped into the name.

Now bring that scroll to the modern square,
where the blue light burns and the eyes just stare.
The idol has pixels, polish and sound,
but it still came up from created ground.

Silicon from sand, copper from stone,
lithium pulled from the earth below.
Glass from the furnace, plastic from oil,
rare earth metals from the wounded soil.

Who made the matter?
Who made the mind?
Who made the laws that the circuits find?
Who made the wave, the charge, the field?
Who made the fruit that the tree would yield?

God made the dust.

Man made the shrine.

Then man bowed down
to the work of his line.

[HOOK]

Same old idols in a brand-new light,
same old darkness with a screen made bright.
Wood became code, stone became glass,
but every false kingdom is fading grass.

Only Jesus saves.
Only Jesus saves.
Idols cannot cleanse you,
systems cannot raise.

Wake from the cave,
come out of the dream.
Christ is the Light
behind everything seen.

[VERSE 2]

Neo woke up with the wires in his skin,
never knew sleep was the world he lived in.
That is the trouble with a normalised chain,
the prison feels natural when it trains the brain.

Plato saw shadows on a cave-wall glow,
prisoners naming what they did not know.
Turn up the fire, change up the frame,
same false world with a prettier name.

Pandora opened and sorrows came out,
myths keep echoing what Scripture shouts.
Man reached upward, wanted the throne,
opened the box, then called exile home.

But Eden was first, let the record be plain,
fruit in the garden, death in the vein.
The serpent advertised forbidden sight:
“Take, eat, rise, become like light.”

That was the first marketing campaign,
desire with a halo, rebellion with gain.
Not freedom, but fetter.
Not wisdom, but night.
Not godhood, but death
wearing borrowed light.

Now every advert has Eden inside,
every broad road has serpent pride.
“Follow your heart.”
“Build your own name.”
“Upgrade the self.”
“Curate the frame.”

Entertainment makes a world to escape,
beauty sells hunger in a sweeter shape.
Sports turn crowds into liturgy flame,
celebrity forges a mortal name.

Politics offers messiahs with laws,
tech offers heaven with mechanical jaws.
Money says, “Safety.”
Pleasure says, “Peace.”
The algorithm says, “Never cease.”

But none of them died for your sin on a tree.
None of them rose to set captives free.
None of them judge with nail-scarred hands.
None of them reign where the Lamb still stands.

[HOOK]

Same old idols in a brand-new light,
same old darkness with a screen made bright.
Wood became code, stone became glass,
but every false kingdom is fading grass.

Only Jesus saves.
Only Jesus saves.
Idols cannot cleanse you,
systems cannot raise.

Wake from the cave,
come out of the dream.
Christ is the Light
behind everything seen.

[BRIDGE]

This is not fear of technology.

This is not hatred of beauty.

This is not panic about art, music, games, stories, cities or craft.

Creation is good.

But when the gift becomes god,
the gift becomes grave.

When the screen becomes shepherd,
the soul forgets the Shepherd.

When the market becomes temple,
the heart becomes merchandise.

Come out.

[VERSE 3]

This is the Gospel in the idol age,
good news written on history’s page.
God made the world and called it good,
stars, seas, breath, garden and wood.

Man was made in the image divine,
not made to worship the work of his line.
But we turned from God to created things,
crowned our cravings and kissed dead kings.

Sin is not merely a bad little choice,
sin is refusing the Maker’s voice.
It bends the heart from the living Lord,
then asks carved dust to become reward.

No idol can answer the graveyard bell.
No platform can rescue the soul from hell.
No movie can pardon, no feed can renew,
no avatar can make the dead heart true.

But God did not leave us asleep in the cave.
The Father sent Christ, mighty to save.
Not an idea, not myth, not code,
the Word became flesh on a dusty road.

He touched real lepers, opened real eyes,
called real sinners from real lies.
He fed the hungry, stilled the sea,
told the chained and the shamed, “Come to Me.”

He faced the tempter where Adam fell,
answered with Scripture and conquered hell.
“It is written,” He stood in the heat,
no bow to the kingdoms laid at His feet.

Then He walked to the Cross outside the gate,
where empire and religion gathered in hate.
The idols screamed through the crowd that day,
but Heaven’s Lamb would not turn away.

Blood on the wood for the guilty poured,
mercy and judgement in Christ the Lord.
The Maker of trees on a tree was slain,
the Lord of breath entered death and pain.

They sealed Him in darkness, stone at the door,
but death could not hold the Author of more.
Third day morning, the true Light shone,
Christ rose alive from the grave alone.

Now every idol must answer His Name.
Every false throne is headed for flame.
Every empire, image, market and screen
will bow to the King over all things seen.

Repent and believe, come into the day.
Leave the dead gods that cannot save.
The one true Story is Jesus Christ:
crucified, risen, our only life.

[FINAL HOOK]

Same old idols in a brand-new light,
same old darkness with a screen made bright.
Wood became code, stone became glass,
but every false kingdom is fading grass.

Only Jesus saves.
Only Jesus saves.
His blood can cleanse you,
His voice can raise.

Wake from the cave,
come out of the dream.
Christ is the Light
behind everything seen.

[OUTRO]

The idol is made.

The idol is sold.

The idol is praised.

The idol grows old.

But Christ is not made.

Christ is Lord.

The tomb is empty.

Jesus saves.