Keep your judgmental, supplemental deities at bay.

I will keep no god as my own,

Be he omnipotent or she omniscient.

Do not knock on my door and barter for my soul,

Playing my lust against my guilt,

My greed against my love,

Because I have seen your doomsday dreams:

The seating on your salvation bus is pretty scarce

First come first serve and I've lost the game,

Came into the world with no angel to my name,

Weighing me down with a destiny, a birthright.

My parents burned my bridges for me;

I have a boat of science and hope,

No guarantees,

But that'll go pretty far upriver,

And cross whatever lakes of hellfire you care to toss me in.

I will not barter my freedom for your salvation,

My independence for false hopes from frustrated seraphim, with fragile wings relying on the subjugation of your hopes and dreams

Under a guise of "morals."

Say one thing and do another,

Threaten my rights and call yourself my brother,

But God didn't pass the paternity test,

And I won't join the rest of better-safe-than-sorry suckers who give you lip-service and pay true homage to another,

Because I was born to play on the field of equals,

And we have our own immaculate conception,

Our own miracles, own own life-charter,

And I don't need your "good book," written on the skins of martyrs,

To tell me that every man should love one another: survival of the species, hon,

We're all in this together.

I know my limitations, my choices, my direction,

And I don't need divine intervention

To tell me right from wrong, but your indiscretion

Paints another picture in blood and semen.

You shouldn't need God peeking over your shoulder

To tell you the right way to treat one another,

Like your mother:

Peer over your own shoulder

Because you know right from wrong and left from right and day from night.

You know the lion from the lamb and water from sand,

And you know where you want to go,

So let it show and go,

Without paper or intangible angels to lead or direct,

Because they're all dead,

And it's just you and me, born free,

It's time to break out of the illusion, you see.

Yeah, you may get lost, you may misstep,

But at least the error was your own,

Because like you've always known

We've gotta set our own tone,

So get your god off my doorstep.