Just a bunch of hypocrital christians
The land of no religion

You tell me to do this,
Yet you never did it.
You can't tell me to do right,
When you only know what sin is.
Don't tell me to be quiet,
Because I don't fit in
'You know what I'm going through'
Yeah because you're Jesus
Standing in front of me in thin air
Come back when you're perfect .

And please shut up,
Because you're just wasting
God's limited air

Killing myself is not an option, but killing everyone around me is.

To be honest this life is a bore.
Everyday gets harder, and each step seems further away.

Am i to give up because of the challenges?

Am i to succum to their wim?
Bow like a servant and bark like a dog?

Believe their hypocrital lies and apply them to my life?

Do they wish to chain me with their instructions?
Tell me to behave when they're the ones breaking every commandment with no remorse.

Tell me to respect while they judge us for our past mistakes and point fingers while we pass.

Am i to be what they want me to be? Or be free.

I always say
Don’t worry,
Because the storm
Comes before the rainbow.
When do you think
I’ll start taking my own advice?

Sweet summer's sun
I don't see your light
I only see November
Sleet, snow, and ice
I pick and I scramble
Shovel this snow
Such a great weight

Another women has come
Brought by the waste
Disrupting this family
Tratiorous June's fate
Can't trust a word, too late

The weatherman's forecast
Warm sunny skies, no clouds
No Melissa, no Jennifer, no Kate
Your pictures a warning
An empty sky, so fake
Bitter and cold, broken my home
Children cry, yelling to sleep

I wondered for why
June just didn't try
Too many strange voices
Around, telling her why
Never to stay, June, only to go

Blanket this field
***** and white
**** all the flowers
Cold burn the life
Butterflies, they cry
Birds cannot fly
Deep drowning white

But somehow I knew
Instinct runs true
Words mean nothing
The sky is not blue
Hypocrital too

And now it has become our place
Removers of the grievous waste
Of lunitical hypocrital D(Tr)unp  
Festering there
Right in the middle of our square
Stinking, frothing, full of ****
It is our place
And the time has come