I don’t believe you!
All you say is a pack of lies.
If you tell the truth
It will come as a big surprise.

You’re unaffected by the truth
You lie, each time you speak
If you could find a way to do it
You’d lie about the days of the week.
You’re as crooked as a helix
Just as dishonest as any thief.
Your warped view of reality
Is totally beyond all belief.

I don’t believe you!
You turn the truth inside out.
Making up tall tales
Is most of what you’re about.

Your every word is fact-free
And every action is a crime.
You steal when you don’t need to.
If you could, you’d steal time.
You’re the poster child indeed
For most kinds of dishonesty.
Telling the truth, being truthful
Is not part of your chemistry.

I don’t believe you!
You’re a gold plated charlatan.
If you get caught lying
You tell another lie and start again.
I don’t believe you!
All you say is a pack of lies.
If you tell the truth
It will come as a big surprise.

Onward Christ’s invaders
Waging pious war.
Genocidal warriors;
Profit’s faithful hordes.
We know what we’re paid to do.
Hold our banner high.
Anyone gets in our way
Then that one has to die.

We ignore the whines of those
Whose relatives have died.
We are doing right because
God is on our side.
Christ died on the cross for us
Washed away our sins.
That’s why we must **** the rest
So they’ll be born again.

Slaughtering’s our holy right
It says so in our book
Someday we will read the thing,
Take a good long look.
Until then, we do what we’re told;
March and slash and ****.
We are faithful Christians, we
Obey and always will.

Onward Christ’s invaders
Waging pious war.
Genocidal warriors
Profit’s faithful hordes.
We know what we’re paid to do.
Hold our banner high.
Anyone gets in our way
Then that one has to die.

Naturist, skinny dipper
But never ****** waver;
Some of us are exhibitionists
A point I hope you savor.
I am into keeping clothing
Something more than minimal
But, I should not ever be
Thought of as a criminal.

After all, the same people
Who piously point to their Bible
Ignore that we are born ****
And every other word is libel.
It simply makes no sense
To impose laws on a poor sod
And then paint yourself with
Trappings of some ancient god.

I don’t take my clothes off
To discomfit you even a little
But your frothings-at-the-mouth
I regard as simply spittle.
I have never agreed with your
Mesopotamian mythology,
And I disagree with it all,
With no remorse or apology.

But bear this in mind, please
I resent you pushing on to me
A way of living that I feel
Is very uncomfortable to be.
I don’t ask you to be naked
If that is not right for you
But to tell me I must not
Is an offensive thing to do.

The idea that a tiniest bit
Of what is so honestly me
Is such a horrendous and
Disgusting thing for you to see
In a world of thongs and bikinis
And pushup padded wonder bras
Is a matter of gross hypocrisy
And to me, an ignoble cause.

I truly fail to understand
Why it’s gotten out of hand.
It seems so very odd
There are so many God
Is supposed to have ordained
Some aren’t even trained.
There is an absolute dearth
Of an actual true rebirth
In the revivifying blood of Jesus.
It’s almost like allergic sneezes.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.

We are becoming overrun
With an ecumenical kind of fun
In which before we can holler
Another puts on a backward collar
And starts tell us what to do.
When the rebirthing is through
They are on their park soapbox
And ******* about our Xbox;
Telling us what we should watch
And the coffee in our coffee klatch
Is unGodly because Jesus never drank it.
Makes me want to grab and spank it
Before it multiplies. Jerks, those guys.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.

They say college is the best time of your life,
But dante's seventh circle, seems serene
A paradise for my spring break, free from this agony.

I find myself choking on my beliefs,
Torn from my heart, and jammed back down my throat;
By people who praise diversity of ideas, but only listen to their own words.

My education has been one of hate,
Hated for my ideas on how to help others,
Just because I wasn't of the same mind.

I can't escape myself, alone, in a sea of self loathing
Drowning in underhanded insults and ostrification,
Gasping for air, refusing to turn blue

My confidence in being loved has been completely shattered,
Afraid of the testosterone that makes me who I am,
My very sexuality offensive and toxic.

I look in the mirror seeing a freak,
Someone undeserving of breath,
And in these, the best years of my life.

You people that say
“There aren’t any gays
In my race or church!”
You’re so wrong, I say.
You’re so wrong
It will be hard to get back
To right, you know,
Where you went off track.

You people that say
There are no gays
In our holy country
You’re wrong too, I say.
You’re hiding something
About yourself to say it.
You’re driving yourself crazy
The way you want to play it.

You people that say
“Jesus hates blacks and gays!”
You are totally wrong
That’s not what the book says.
You people that think
You know the path to heaven
Couldn’t find you way
If it was at the Seven Eleven.

You people that say
“God damns you people to hell!”
Haven’t read that book
Or understand it very well.
The book never has Jesus
To utter one punishing word.
So, where did it come from,
All that hatred you have heard?

You people that say
“There aren’t any gays
In my race or church!”
You’re so wrong, I say.
You’re so wrong
It will be hard to get back
To right, you know,
Where you went off track.