Overcome

Crucify The Flesh

I am not of this world

My old ways have died and I stand

Before You a new creation

No longer merely flesh and blood

My spirit now resounds with Yours manifest, reigning in me

And this is eternal life:

That I would know You and Your Son whom You sent;

Jesus Christ the Lamb of God

By my home I am rejected, and my home has cast me out

But I’ll stand with boldness and declare

“We have overcome the world!”

But there are those in this world

Who long to steal our freedom

But greater is He who is in us

Than hе who is in this world

We’ll stand aloud and we’ll light the flamе

We’ll stay awake and we will cherish Your name

This world will look down on us like fools

But we will stay awake and usher Your rule

Jesus, You gave up Your life for me

So I will gladly give my life up for You

You came and died for the sins of man

You died on a cross and rose up again

You came and died for the sins of man

You died on a cross and rose up again

“Go, go forth. Speak the truth

Go, go forth. Fight for freedom.”

And every nation on earth will bow before You, my king

You’ve overcome the world

You’ve overcome the world

You’ve overcome the world

You’ve overcome the world

You’ve overcome

You died upon the cross

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!

You died upon the cross

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!

You died upon the cross

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!

You died upon the cross

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!

You died upon the cross

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!

1 February 2025

Journal Entry: Overcome

I’ve been listening to “Overcome” by Crucify The Flesh on repeat today. Not casually. Not like background noise while doing laundry or scrolling. More like an exorcism on loop.

This isn’t just metalcore. It’s testimony set to distortion.

It sounds like they wrote it with blood in their teeth and resurrection in their eyes—like a band of brothers who’ve been through the fire and came out preaching with their amps still smoking.

You rose up from the grave

And You’ve overcome the world!”

Yeah.

This isn’t a question.

This is a declaration. A spiritual war cry echoing across the battlefield of modern chaos.

I kept hearing all those imagined voices in my head again—those saints, freaks, prophets, and heretics I always call up when I’m trying to make sense of art that hits this hard.

Tom Robbins whispered:

“This is ecstatic confrontation—death of the ego by way of drop-tuned rapture. A love song to divine paradox.”

Was this written in tongues? Or did the Holy Spirit double-kick their hearts until it coughed up this anthem of surrender?

That’s what it feels like, listening to this music.

Like praise being screamed through clenched teeth.

Like prayer offered with skinned knuckles.

Galatians 2:20 comes rushing up like floodwater:

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”

I heard of how the band got started—Texas teenagers with a high school dream and a handful of riffs. They called it Crucify The Flesh from the beginning. A name like a command. A reckoning. A scalpel.

Then in 2015, the dream came back to life. First album: Bear Fruit. Which already tells you they read the Word. They didn’t name it Break Stuff For Jesus or Rage and Sanctify. They named it after John 15:5—fruit, growth, surrender, abiding.

By 2019, they dropped Death | Rebirth.

That’s baptism. That’s Romans 6. That’s fire and water and screaming “We have overcome the world!” into the void.

Maybe John Cusack wouldn’t have referred to his own movie like this, but this music  makes me think about this famous scene:

“Crucify The Flesh is like the Say Anything of spiritual warfare. Holding up a boombox full of fire and screaming into the void.”

And I’d ask what movie they see playing when they write.

Is it a scene of end-times revival?

A street preacher screaming truth beneath a dying sun?

Or is it something smaller—one soul in the dark, shaking, deciding whether or not to live?

If Chef Tony Bourdain were still around and he saw these guys live, and he watched them perform this song, would he have asked the hard one?

“Does your music feed you? Or does it leave you hungrier than before?”

“And what if the voice in the song—that one who was cast out by home—what if it wasn’t just a metaphor? What if it was a true story?”

Because sometimes it is religion that exiles you. Sometimes it’s family.

Sometimes it’s the old version of yourself trying to come back from the grave.

And Charlie Sheen, sitting on that bench next to Jennifer Grey, in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, crazy prophet of the self-immolated, might laugh and say,

“This is winning. Holy war music. Did you write this after waking up from a dream where Jesus stage-dived into hell?”

And yeah. That’s how it sounds.

Jesus kicking in the gates of death, screaming back at the darkness with a mic in one hand and the keys to Dean Winchester’s Impala in the other.

The world will always crucify what it doesn’t understand.

That’s been the story since the garden and the gun.

What is the price of standing apart in a world that wants to devour you whole?

Do you feel it in your bones?

Yes. I do.

Especially when I scream praise like sin is still trying to climb back up my throat.

Romans 8:37 comes through like feedback:

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”

But that conquering? It’s not clean.

It’s daily crucifixion.

It’s a fight that leaves scars.

So, Tom Robbins, if he were still around, might add this:

What happens when the flesh tries to resurrect itself?

Does your spirit still have to kill it daily?

Why, yes.

Yes, it does.

And this song helps with that.