© 2026 Echo Grove Music. All rights reserved.

Lyrics written and owned by Echo Grove Music.

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I was the blade in Heaven’s hand,

A righteous sword through every land

With holy oil and chains of brass,

We found the wicked, burned their past.

They said a witch had cursed the town,

The crops had failed, the sheep fell down.

So to her door I made my way

The Devil’s bride would die this day.

But in her house, no runes, no charms,

Just roots and herbs labeled with cards.

She offered me a bitter leaf,

For pounding head, to grant relief.

I scoffed, then chewed. The ache was gone.

I saw her smile lit by the dawn.

No chants, no blood, no sulfur smoke,

Just wisdom strong the scholars spoke.

There’s no devil in her garden,

Just balm and bitter root.

And every leaf she touches

Grows heaven from the dirt.

But to save her from your fire,

I must lie to make her glow

Call her angel, though I know

It's alchemy in her control.

I said, “She heals, she does no harm!”

But cries arose, “Raise the alarm!”

“Burn the witch, send her to hell!”

They carried torches toward her cell.

I prayed beneath the gallows tree,

“Lord, give me words to set her free.”

Then rose and told them with a cry,

“She’s touched by angels, I do not lie!”

I traded truth for sanctity,

Wrapped reason in divinity.

They kissed her hands and dowsed their fire,

Letting beauty cool their moral ire.

There’s no devil in her garden,

Just balm and bitter root.

And every leaf she touches

Grows heaven from the dirt.

But to save her from your fire,

I must lie to make her glow

Call her angel, though I know

It's alchemy in her control.

So call her saint, call her divine,

She lives today, the pride is mine.

I walked in truth, but found instead,

Sometimes a holy lie prevents a death.