It is dark and it's raining.
Your beings are enchained but
The Book, The Book,
Your Book is not explaining.

Rain: Is it You crying
from the sky and
smiling and sympathizing
with me?

Or is it You humming
to Taylor Swift and
doing laundry, not hearing
my screams?

Your Book, Your Book
It is misunderstood
God, Your beings are being
oppressed for just being.

It wasn't Your intention then
But now, don't You see?
The powerful use the Book
To have power over the weak!

The Book, The Book
Says your Golden Gates
are closed for me.
For just showing sympathy?

When did it become
a choice between,
The Book, The Book
and humanity?

The Book, The Book
Says You care a lot
And then it says
you don't care at all.

Which creature to love
and which to not.
To help you decide,
Is there a Lucky Draw?

Why will you let,
those who repeat
"The Book, The Book",
easily off the hook?

But those who dare to think,
judge between bad and good
are the ones who get
The Look, The Look?

And if behind those Golden Gates
Are bad people chanting
"The Book, The Book"
I'm not sure I want to enter.