[Verse] Silent halls, the echoes crawl, Preacher’s voice behind the walls, Crystal glass and marble floors, Empty seats, but still it roars. Cold gold drip, the sermon hits, Words like ice on velvet lips, Luxury with no disguise, Faith in dark, behind these eyes. [Pre-Chorus] Whispers roll through the night, Haunting all with frozen light, Every word, a sharpened stone, Sermon’s echo chills the bone. [Chorus] Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Empty rooms where prayers drown, Luxury’s cold, but I’m still found, Trap the silence, hold the crown. Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Echoes deep with hollow rounds, Frozen steel, but I’m still bound, Trap the silence, hold the crown. [Verse] Shadowed steps on polished glass, Ghosts of voices from the past, Velvet chains that bind my soul, Empty throne, the preacher’s goal. Gold and ice, a cruel design, Faith and doubt in thin lines, Speech that cuts, but makes me whole, Sermon’s fire—my frozen coal. [Pre-Chorus] Whispers roll through the night, Haunting all with frozen light, Every word, a sharpened stone, Sermon’s echo chills the bone. [Chorus] Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Empty rooms where prayers drown, Luxury’s cold, but I’m still found, Trap the silence, hold the crown. Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Echoes deep with hollow rounds, Frozen steel, but I’m still bound, Trap the silence, hold the crown. [Bridge] Cold confession, velvet sin, Underneath this diamond skin, Hear the sermon, feel the sting, Luxury’s a hollow king. [Chorus] Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Empty rooms where prayers drown, Luxury’s cold, but I’m still found, Trap the silence, hold the crown. Sunday sound, it shakes the ground, Echoes deep with hollow rounds, Frozen steel, but I’m still bound, Trap the silence, hold the crown. [Outro] Trap the silence, hold the crown, Sunday’s sermon, never down.