O dear God, it's the age of Cain and Abel
Bitch you bet, I'm willing and I'm able
Pass the test, 'cause it's really just a fable
Scarlet A, but on a field of sable
God Above, am I worthy or unwilling
Is it wrong, the hours that I'm killing
Or in me, is Thy holy bidding vested
Watch your back, they say I can't be tested
You get stoned just like you were named Rosetta
Cheetohs' dust and playing Bayonetta
Grand Theft Auto, you go buy a Baretta
Was your life not made for something better
O dear God, can I play at right and holy
Bear the slings of those who do not know me
I would rather be purged by holy fire
Than become a hypocrite and liar
O, dear God in this unholy age
Had You all the wisdom of a sage
Would You put mankind under the blade
O, dear God hear the angels in the outfield
Crying out because they
Hear my words, but they cannot know how I feel
I'm willing, but my flesh is weak, I know that You shall destroy me
Still I beg, that you
Let me die, if it means You can't control me
I wish You were a friend
I wish that a single person knew You
So do You
Want us all to give in to falser preachers
Nasty creatures
The GOP is the reason I abhor You
They adore You
In the name of all that's right and money
Why don't you find that funny
But I know that that doesn't quite concern You
Even though they
Mock Your name, in their selfishness they spurn You
I'd rather
Be the kind of person who says
"I'm not quite religious, I'm more spiritual" so my hands stay clean, and
All that I've been--that I was--that I am
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
In this age of such medieval suspicions, is there no contrition?
Don Kongo - Medieval Suspicions Lyrics
Don Kongo - Medieval Suspicions Lyrics
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O dear God, it's the age of Cain and Abel
Bitch you bet, I'm willing and I'm able
Pass the test, 'cause it's really just a fable
Scarlet A, but on a field of sable
God Above, am I worthy or unwilling
Is it wrong, the hours that I'm killing
Or in me, is Thy holy bidding vested
Watch your back, they say I can't be tested
You get stoned just like you were named Rosetta
Cheetohs' dust and playing Bayonetta
Grand Theft Auto, you go buy a Baretta
Was your life not made for something better
O dear God, can I play at right and holy
Bear the slings of those who do not know me
I would rather be purged by holy fire
Than become a hypocrite and liar
O, dear God in this unholy age
Had You all the wisdom of a sage
Would You put mankind under the blade
O, dear God hear the angels in the outfield
Crying out because they
Hear my words, but they cannot know how I feel
I'm willing, but my flesh is weak, I know that You shall destroy me
Still I beg, that you
Let me die, if it means You can't control me
I wish You were a friend
I wish that a single person knew You
So do You
Want us all to give in to falser preachers
Nasty creatures
The GOP is the reason I abhor You
They adore You
In the name of all that's right and money
Why don't you find that funny
But I know that that doesn't quite concern You
Even though they
Mock Your name, in their selfishness they spurn You
I'd rather
Be the kind of person who says
"I'm not quite religious, I'm more spiritual" so my hands stay clean, and
All that I've been--that I was--that I am
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
In this age of such medieval suspicions, is there no contrition?
Bitch you bet, I'm willing and I'm able
Pass the test, 'cause it's really just a fable
Scarlet A, but on a field of sable
God Above, am I worthy or unwilling
Is it wrong, the hours that I'm killing
Or in me, is Thy holy bidding vested
Watch your back, they say I can't be tested
You get stoned just like you were named Rosetta
Cheetohs' dust and playing Bayonetta
Grand Theft Auto, you go buy a Baretta
Was your life not made for something better
O dear God, can I play at right and holy
Bear the slings of those who do not know me
I would rather be purged by holy fire
Than become a hypocrite and liar
O, dear God in this unholy age
Had You all the wisdom of a sage
Would You put mankind under the blade
O, dear God hear the angels in the outfield
Crying out because they
Hear my words, but they cannot know how I feel
I'm willing, but my flesh is weak, I know that You shall destroy me
Still I beg, that you
Let me die, if it means You can't control me
I wish You were a friend
I wish that a single person knew You
So do You
Want us all to give in to falser preachers
Nasty creatures
The GOP is the reason I abhor You
They adore You
In the name of all that's right and money
Why don't you find that funny
But I know that that doesn't quite concern You
Even though they
Mock Your name, in their selfishness they spurn You
I'd rather
Be the kind of person who says
"I'm not quite religious, I'm more spiritual" so my hands stay clean, and
All that I've been--that I was--that I am
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
Teach me to love, to be kind, as a man
In this age of such medieval suspicions, is there no contrition?
Writer: Kyle Labak
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid