Guilt is a one way street
It’s as heavy as the cross he keeps
Chained to his neck
So it won’t leave him, not even
When death comes to collect

Ever since I could remember I been trying to dismember
This member I endeavor that seems to bond me to my mistakes forever
I will feel the butterflies where my stomachs gutters lies
the nerves causing bleeding ulcers to symbolize my gut implies

That my guilt can't be killed
its got a bagpipe and a kilt
A Plutonium powered monster guilt that turns profit til a church was built

And I know guilt in small doses only exposes what closes in the truth
And its noted but I know this

Would be loaded until I was bloated
And eventually it exploded,
Misogynistic? homophobic?
Maybe the bibles misquoted

And that's only a part, before we start on the hypocritically dark
Holy priests who's frozen heart
Let's him say homosexuality is stark

Sin, and then take part
Helping to alter a boys life
after his faltered toy of an alter boy substitutes for the wife

The church deprives him of despite The history, so Im left feeling low like a low life Grinning while I'm sinning, like Charlie winning til karma bites

My *** With spite, but when I speak to the light wanting to do right
My confessions of guilt woe were not only guilt full but blatantly willful

So when I confess my common told, sins, like common Colds
appetizers and often flow, almost comical, kept falling like dominoes

Or added as if it was an abocist
Counting&Accountin; each which are
causing an apology to sound bizarre that now folds like a house of cards

So I find myself in doubt surrounded
by myths in fables told
To give solace without knowledge,
facts or evolution,just how to scold

Bur I do not blame them.
I too have sought refuge in the eyes of a stranger.

But this place does not feel holy guilt
echoes and hangs from the walls, the choir voices, rejoices, but
Guilt whispers to the mass and calls

For them to empty their wallets in collection baskets for sin
&fre;; the incarceration built by guilt
to fester like tumors under the skin

Like a disease of brainwash passed down for generations
since the dawn of mankind.

I do not know what forgiveness is
But I know it is not to be found in the book from which he is reading.

There is nothing sacred here
Every belief that climbs the rafters is tainted.....
Even the windows are stained.

And I swear one day
I will crawl under these floor boards
And dig a hole as deep as my guilt
And bury myself alive.