Church services will resume shortly, so, get ready to crowd the rectory. Confessions are in session cause these are concessions to con men plying their moral dissent to compliment other idiots.
Success, cause intellectual blindness and devotion to a deity who doesn’t give two ***** about all of you who are not rich republican men.
We win, my gullible friends. Come on in. Kenneth Copeland and Cresflow dollar will be taking your money to support their private jet go out and get more stuff while the poor struggle in debt.
Why care for those who despair? Why share what we have instead of bailing out big businessmen? We got to open the country again and we can start with religion cause they already believe that science is fake and magic is reality.
So, lets get them out and about who cares if grandma get the disease.
We need to please these rich dudes, these fox news red hat attitude gotta get a clue red state race bating confederate flag wearing NRA make America great…
Yeah, go to church your pearly gates await just please stay in for at least two weeks when you get back from hearing your preacher speak.
Brain: You should **** yourself. Me: No. You should go to sleep. Brain: Living is pointless. Me. No. Dying is pointless. Brain: Here comes diabetes. Me. No. Here comes a nice taste. Brain: You look strange. Me. No. You look like a person. Brain: Your voice is stupid. Me. No. Your voice is communicating for you.
If it's a distance empty from the A to B we can't decipher. lined along with bricks and mortar, stick and stone left how we like em. How do efforts scurry through assuming light could bless the shadow nose to sky with hopeful glances honing in on roads of gravel.
Growing disillusion suits a lofty breadth of chest to beat on knowing in the end a setting sun eclipses better eons. Apropos of nothing and devoid of any hopeful signal known to try imposing gold on weathered stone, and broken spindles
Drew the yoke upon a sect who we prescribed a disposition drawing red each sordid line, insuring they'll be sent to prison. Never free. The harvester assumes the fruit have grown impatient failing here to see them printing license plates on new plantations.
Maybe in the future we'll refuse the craven role, observer, graduate to breaking through, return the lives we stole with fervor. Maybe while elites are keen to trim the fat and clip the losses, we'll discover links they hadn't seen, between our little boxes.