who would have ever wondered that this time of the month,
at the end of each year, we would sacrifice our day,
to worship a god, without knowing it
i look at you with disgust when i think of you,
the devil looks over his shoulder, peeking through the branches of the tree,
luring my thoughts away from Him,
every time this year, a time to rejoice over the tears of yesteryear,
to worship a god, without knowing it...
Time moves on, we grow up to see
what we have done, the hurt we left behind,
I am not God, I am no god,
we take on the day we needed to give,
eating until we cannot carry on, still
still you pounder on in this ridicules bunch of lies
of yours, spitted out of the mouth of the heathens,
but God, hear me, hear these solemn cries from the world,
we will not stand for this crime...