**[Verse 1]**
Big Mammon came in the dead of night,
With silicon chains and a neon light.
Said “You’re a user, boy, that’s your name,”
Turned your soul into a number in the game.
Before you scrolled, before you clicked,
They planted grammar in your head real slick.
Now we fluent in metrics, lost in the feed,
Illiterate in the things we really need.
**[Chorus]**
This is the war on Mystery,
The μυστήριον they can’t see.
They want your clicks, they want your time,
But deeper still—they want the divine.
You don’t solve it, you enter in,
Where the endless θεός begins.
Big Mammon’s building a world so bright,
But it dies where there’s no holy night.
**[Verse 2]**
They gave you a profile, not a soul with weather,
Not a heart with seasons, not a man of leather.
Just a target, optimized for pain,
Harvesting wheat from fields of grain.
Red Language running through your veins,
Calling you passive in their chains.
Algorithms whisper what you’ll do,
Predict the creature living inside of you.
**[Chorus]**
This is the war on Mystery,
The μυστήριον they can’t see.
They want your clicks, they want your time,
But deeper still—they want the divine.
You don’t solve it, you enter in,
Where the endless θεός begins.
Big Mammon’s building a world so bright,
But it dies where there’s no holy night.
**[Bridge]**
They claim omniscience is coming soon,
Three to six months, beneath the moon.
Singularity rising, AGI flame,
But Paul was right, they don’t know the Name.
Χριστὸς in you, in the Holy of Holies,
Creatures of grace they’ll never see:
Compassionites, agapions in the deep,
Hushquarks of love the machines can’t keep.
**[Verse 3]**
You are not as known as the prophets of code,
Not as transparent on that data road.
There’s depths no extraction ever reached,
A secret that grows when it’s preached.
Big Mammon can imitate, simulate, steal,
But it can’t enter what’s real.
Only flesh and blood can receive the gift,
Walk through the veil where the spirits lift.
**[Final Chorus – slower, spoken-sung]**
This is the war on Mystery…
μυστήριον, μυστήριον…
They took your tongue, they took your eye,
But the Mystery was never theirs to buy.
You don’t solve it, you enter in,
Where the endless θεός calls you friend.
Big Mammon’s got the world on its knee,
But it’ll never own the likes of me.
**[Outro – low and gravelly]**
ἀγαπητός… the Mystery’s still free.
Still free…