God Dead In The Store Window

They closed the church and opened a mall in its place
They traded the bell for nonstop black Friday sales
No one prays anymore, but everyone still kneels
Before the store windows, the installment plans, life on sale

We killed what gave meaning and put nothing in its place
Just a void wrapped up to look sacred, ready to buy
The altar became a fitting room, the miracle became a coupon
We pray to the algorithm, our new God without grace

And now? Who holds this void that's left behind?
Who gives meaning to the world we ourselves have emptied?
It's no use pretending nothing has changed, that nothing has died
The altar is empty, and it's not just heaven's fault

God dead in the store window and we still pray
God dead in the store window buying our own certainty
No one wants to create any value at all
They just want to buy what's already ready-made

It's not about religion, it's about the hole that's left behind
After all our inherited certainties finally crumbled
We could have created something new with our own hands
But we'd rather fill the void with more consumption, more illusion

Who has the courage to look into the abyss without buying a painkiller?
Who has the courage to create their own value in the desert, without a manual, without help?
The store window promises meaning, but it only sells reflections
I want to create my own, even if it hurts, even if I fail

And now? Who holds onto this emptiness that's left behind?
Who gives meaning to the world we ourselves have emptied?
It's no use pretending nothing has changed, that nothing has died
The altar is empty, and it's not just heaven's fault

Dead God in the shop window and we still pray
God dead in the window buying our own certainty
No one wants to create any value
They just want to buy what's already ready-made

Dead
In the window
And no one
Noticed

If the altar has fallen, let it fall completely
I won't patch up with plastic what was once made of clay, what was already fleeting
I'll dig out my own meaning from this ground that's left
Even if I have to create on my own everything the world has stolen

Dead God in the showcase and we still pray
God dead in the showcase buying our own certainty
No one wants to create any value
They just want to buy what's already ready-made

And the showcase, remains, lit