Dealers Of Guilt - Profane Omen

Raise yourself to be a preacher;

tell the people how to live a sorry life,

pretending you’re not condescending

I hate your guts!

The parasites dealing this guilt with their lies

I dream of the day when the last of those leeches will die, WILL DIE!

Worthless words from a worthless mouth, but the noise you make heard over the

truth

I’m not listening so quit your endless bitchin'

Let Me Be!

False preacher, a mail-order Jesus got the answers I don’t f*cking want

You’re not a master, I’m not a puppet

Go stare at a barrel of a gun!