Well, sit right down my wicked son
And let me tell you a story
About the boy who fell from glory
And how he was a wicked son

This ain't no holiday
But it always turns out this way
Here I am with my hand

He took his sister from his head
And impregnated her on the sheets
And they rolled her up in grass and trees
And they kissed until they were dead

This ain't no holiday
But it always turns out this way
Here I am with my hand

Well, sit right down my evil son
And let me tell you a story
About the boy who fell from glory

Are you offended? I don't need you to think for me. Do you cart to see the real me or just an opinion that you behold? Oh, You're a Christian? But your actions don't please me. Oh, You're a Christian? act like one. I'm so tired of your opinions, and all of your rules that lack no Godly truth. I'm so tired of restrictions, I'll let my answers come from above. Once again I turn from you, and I'll leave your opinions behind. Because all they do is make me sick, and I'll find the real truth.

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