Vicarious

Sex is sold
On the cover of your magazines
Violent acts
Taken to biblical extremes
You tell me all I do is unclean
Your mouth distorts
Like the truth you demean

I put my gun
Against your head
No one will save you
Your god is dead

I take pleasure
Twisting all you say
Your fake suntan
Will only hasten your decay
I detest every single one of you
You site and gawp
Waiting for your god
To tell you what to do

I am god’s gun
You are all dead
Your words too shallow
Your minds full of lead

God was shot
While giving head
He tried to swallow

Then he bled

© 2009, Mosquitobyte