Witchdoctopus - The Master Cyst's P.S.A. Lyrics

This is the master cyst coming back with this
Mass assist for the populace
Kiss your fist; you'll need it
If our seeds have succeeded
I'm writing my biography
And I hope you can read it
Every word that I said
Will be written in red
Drink some wine and eat bread
Here's a halo for your head
This one goes out to all the angels that got lost
The only thing right in the bible are the angles on the cross
Its dangerous when I'm crossed
Don't laugh at me. I'm the boss
Alright, here we go. Who's pen is this?
Never-mind. Here's Genesis
Confection, Connection, Perfection, Affection
Erection, Ejection, Collection, Reflection
Selection, Infection, Inspection, Detection
Rejection, Defection, Death and Di-section

Virgin Mary took drugs so god knocked her up
Then he caught her with her husband and he called her a slut
Then he murdered his son, gave cupid a gun
Said, "The end has begun. You better go have some fun"

Hold on a second. I want to put this on the record
You'll need Darvocet when I wreck it
May all religious heads be beckoned
God says you've got to be in love to f*ck
He loves everyone and he's f*cking us all up
If only shit that you read lets you make it out of bed
Then, kid, you're blissfully dead. God just exists in your head
May pray till your wrists are red, but your fists never bled
How can you feel free if you're being constantly led

So I'm not so sentimental?
Send a mental note to yourself that wealth is detrimental to your health
If you can't take it with you, it's probably because you're too dead to lift it
OOr too weak from hauling the shit around with you. Admit it
So shut the f*ck up and hit this
Get tired and hungry, think stupid shit is funny
Burn all your money then get laid
And if you still haven't found higher power smoke a higher grade
And fade into the shade and wonder why the hell you prayed in the first place, f*ck face
What grace?
You're in a rubber duck race
You're the man in a can standing on the schmuck space
Are you in the right place?
Even if you did go to a heaven you'd forget your overnight case with the white lace
It doesn't matter if the ideas you eat have a nice taste; they're, to be concise, fake