• With all I need under my arm I'm off to Sunday school
    To prove to ma and pa I'm not some heathen fool

    But while we sit together within our untended rows
    A doubtful motion inside of me, I feel it as it grows

    I recall advice my mother once gave, if things weren't going my way
    The answers to all my questions would come if I'd only kneel down to pray

    So I followed her precious words and asked my lord quite a lot
    when we die do we fly to the heavens above or just sit in the ground to rot?

    But I never got a reply, and I'll admit I was in utter devastation
    Oh well, just another fun reason to support cremation

    My thoughts began to wander, as children surely do
    I questioned every lesson, church had put me through

    I arrived to my own logical conclusions
    and no longer felt the vice grip of multiple confusions

    I'd figured it out, all these things by myself
    No need for some book, collecting dust on a shelf

    Unable to take my teacher's obvious lies, anymore
    I stood on my desk and shouted "shut up, you whore!

    I see right through your sick little game
    If god made pain why isn't he to blame?

    It is all justified with some crackpot fairy tale
    of pure evil in the form of a Christian hell

    Spooky demons there, trapped souls forever to remain
    This trash is all made up, are you completely insane?

    Faith or hope or whichever you call it
    to achieve it we have to sacrifice logic!

    I can't let my mind slip into such disrepair
    Call me all you wish, I honestly don't care

    Sinner, heathen, any colorful term in the book
    If your god is real, won't he come take a look?

    Punish his wayward son in some fashion
    Or are deities bereft of such dauntless passion

    Ill give a good show just to justify your frown
    God, if you hear me please come strike me down!

    What ho, no magnificent thunderbolt from the sky
    no shining light of divine retribution to make me die?

    Care to explain why I still stand amongst you
    any ideas that you believe to be so true?

    More pathetic bedtime stories, I'll wager
    Your futile theories put us all in danger!

    Put down the script of deceit and think for a change
    for yourself so maybe we could elevate this human stain

    Look at the hypocrite garbage within those supposed holy pages
    that downplay unknown magic, yet support godly mages

    Thou shall not commit murder it says, don't make me cry!
    You know how many have died in the name of that invisible joke in the sky?

    But that is all religion is, just a power game
    oil to machines that fuel war, wealth, and fame

    A set of hopeful ideas, perverted for years
    playing on the minds of the weak and their fears

    I am sick of it all, this political clash
    I'll put my bible where it belongs, in the trash

    And think for myself, not relying on false hope
    Like some invisible god, or a fool such as the pope.

    They're all just criminal hustlers, at the end of the day
    And cash a new check each time that you pray

    And offer your love to that shiny collection plate
    harming yourself and sealing your fate!

    To the divine plan of some mystical force that isn't there
    As you moan and complain about how life isn't fair

    Before I go, I've one last fantastic idea to bestow
    An answer to several questions I am sure you all know

    My victories came from no god, you see
    Was my doing alone, it all rose from me

    I've only myself to thank for these glories
    none of your pitiful bedtime stories

    If Jesus truly saves, then he should save himself the tolerance
    and get away from your god damn close minded ignorance!"

    The room simply stared in bewilderment and horror
    I walked out the door, to deal with them no more

    So ended my adventure to Sunday school
    where I learned not to be a shepherd-led blind fool.