Meaning behind the song (from Facebook):
As of the past 10yrs or so, the church has been far too invested in fighting the battle of politics that they end up looking like their hope is in their political party/candidates. These “issues” are undoubtedly important, but have distracted us from where our hope should be and so, in turn, distracted us from what we are primarily called to do: set our hope in the God who holds the king’s hearts in His hands, preach the Gospel to a lost and dying world, and love our neighbor.
Stop the bleeding!
I felt your hands as they threated to save
But when the pressure comes all you do is enslave, oh come on!
I see the pressure coming down, I feel the tension rolling on
Open the wounds that you came to cure
Open my wounds and steal the love out of my heart
All we do is fight, fight, fight
And there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Will we ever strike the heart of the cancer that cuts off our breathing?
Stop the bleeding!
I felt your teeth as it's breaking my skin
And as your jaws sink in, I feel my life wearing thin, oh come on!
I see the pressure coming down, I feel the tension rolling on
Open my wounds as you steal the light from my eyes!
Now as you're soaking in our blood, tell me, where is your cure?
All we do is fight, fight, fight
And there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Will we ever strike the heart of the cancer that cuts off our breathing?
We're bowing to crowns made of gold, blind to the one made of thorns
Still we've got to hold the line when there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Stop the bleeding!
We've felt your calloused hands
They're threating to save
But when the pressure comes
You enslave!
Now as you're soaking in our blood, pouring your salt on our open wounds
Tell me, where is your cure?
All we do is fight this fight when there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Following a crown of gold, we will never come close to the healing (Close to the healing)
All we do is fight, fight, fight
And there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Will we ever strike the heart of the cancer that cuts off our breathing?
We're bowing to crowns made of gold, blind to the one made of thorns
Still we've got to hold the line when there's nothing to stop all the bleeding
Stop the bleeding!
You're not my cure!
You're not my cure!