I thank you lord, good god

for you made us; but we made this thing

This thing called religion.

Designed to divide your creation

False prophets claim your name,

we fight, do their bidding

But dragged in the dust, your name.

Are you there lord? Or you left us?


Defenders of religion, you all enemies of reason.

We build temples, of gold and silver

But do you forget.. he expects much less?

You think this is the good god's fight?

But your ignorance, darker than the night.

Aren't you ashamed?

for you have shamed your maker.


I am a lunatic, when I am poetic

But lend me your ears,

You who call yourself believers

I am a beacon of sanity;

in this endless sea of insanity

C     0   n  5 t    @  n  t l   y
                                                       G       r! p  p  ! n   g
                                                              t             O
                  R   3  g    A   i   n
                                     M                    y
                                             S         a n  1 t    y
                                                      I     n
                                         T   h  !s
                                                        I n S a N e
                                                World

i don't want to know your name
nor do i care who the ******* are, what makes you you
and i don't want to know that you can't eat spaghettios anymore because they made you throw up one time a couple years ago;
i'm not curious about your little secrets
and i certainly dont give a **** about your family tree

and i'll gently hold your face in my hands one more time tonight,
but you shouldn't expect to pick apart my brain after the lights turn on and the music stops playing  

( i watched my sanity drop like a disco ball onto your cement floor into ten million little pieces while the cats licked them off the ground and i just sat there and watched, i couldn't even move. )

I lingered in pockets of madness, they were
like crushed velvet on my fingertips.
Soft gentle with a hint of static on my nails.

When I had lived in sanity it wore on me
like a cotton jumper, irratating  me, my
thoughts rational and lucid I felt *****.

*"We are only as crazy as the world around us,