Why I Hate Organized Religion

Don't tell me that you trust me; I don't have a trusting face. Don't tell me you believe in  me; I'll never win this race. I know it, You know It, I don't have a chance, And neither do you, So quit your bitching And quit this mind-fuck dance. Don't tell me you feel sorry For my "most depressing fate," The more you want me to hate myself, The more it's you I'll hate. I'll never believe a word you say, Until you prove it's true, And until you do, I swear to God, I'll go on hating you. I'll never say, "Please go away," I'll never say, "Please, baby, stay," I've never cared, I never will, So close your fucking play. Until you prove that all you say Is true without a doubt, I will live my life, while you search For the easy way out. Written April 12th, 2002 © on Apr 12 2002 04:21 AM PST   0 • 10