You who speak of world peace
and the 'love from above'
and the day of judgement
falling
crashing
descending
raining down onto us unworthy
souls
or the bliss
the magic
the un-comprehendible
wonder of heaven
paradise
and the fiery pits of hell
(where I am sure to go)
for you speak of such things
that I do
as wrong and
punishable affairs
I'm a demon in
disguise
changing
changing
aliases
to keep up appearances
with your
overbearing presence
and the people
who kiss
the ground
your holy feet
walk upon
I guess they
don't know where
you go at night
but
I've seen you
hiding
sneaking
the preacher
in the wrong
but you don't repent
you hypocrite
while you
Sleep with
your whore
in her
husband's
bed sheets stained
with your
sins
so don't you
speak to me of
unmentionable
sins because
I've seen the
look my mother
gives you
every Sunday
morning from
the front pew
the Lord
deserves a
better lamb than
you