Dogma

By September 25, 1999Diary

I am the piss you’re too classy to drink
the thoughts you’re too sober to think 

I KNOW YOUR SECRET, I KNOW YOUR SIN

your voices ring like church bells
tick tock tick tock
making music by the clock
when the calander says it’s Sunday
you must obey
it’s time to pray
but have no fear, I can assure you
the devil doesn’t want you anyway

your words surround me like a crowd
of robots on their way to mass
you better cross your fucking heart
as I wipe your bullshit off my ass

I KNOW YOUR SECRET, I KNOW YOUR SIN

under your lily white sheets
you’re holding your cock in your fist
pumping every drop of hate
that didn’t leak out when you pissed
white trash family so pristine
moralistic, squeaky clean

I KNOW YOUR SECRET, I KNOW YOUR SIN

this is the truth you’re too faithful to see
the animal god will not let you be
victims of fear, believers of lies
what happens to angels if hate never dies

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