Your Sunday Sermon. You're welcome.
"Swing your partner by the hand
Have a baby if you can
But if the voices your head
Say to sacrifice your kid
To satiate your loving God's
Fetish for dead baby blood
It's simple faith, the Book demands
So raise that knife up in your hand!
Swing your daughter by the hand
But if she gets raped by a man
And refuses then to marry him
Stone her to death!
If you just close your eyes and block your ears
To the accumulated knowledge of the last two thousand years
Then morally, guess what?
You're off the hook
And thank Christ you only have to read one book..."
"“Look Storm, sorry, I don't mean to bore you
But there's no such thing as an aura!
Reading Auras is like reading minds
Or tea leaves or star signs or meridian lines
These people aren't plying a skill,
They are either lying or mentally ill.
Same goes for those who claim to hear God's demands
And Spiritual healers who think they have magic hands.
By the way,
Why do we think it's okay
For people to pretend they can talk to the dead?
Is it not totally fucked in the head
Lying to some crying woman whose child has died
And telling her you're in touch with the other side?
I think that's fundamentally sick
Do we need to clarify that there's no such thing as a psychic?
What, are we fucking 2?
Do we actually think that Horton Heard a Who?"
Do we still think that Santa brings us gifts?
That Michael Jackson didn't have facelifts?
Are we still so stunned by circus tricks
That we think that the dead would
Wanna talk to pricks...
Does the idea that there might be knowledge
Does the idea that one afternoon
On Wiki-fucking-pedia might enlighten you
Does the notion that there may not be a supernatural
So blow your hippy noodle
That you would rather just stand in the fog
Of your inability to Google?"