Fake Halos

Fuck superstitions, I don’t believe in anything
Except in the fact that your god doesn’t exist
You hypocrites can say what you want
You can raise your signs, I will raise my fist
I hope your fake halo will someday sink down and become your noose
I’d watch you choke and twitch, cry like a little bitch
The tears drip down on your shoes
You like to preach and spit out all hour hatred
But let the dirty work be done by someone else
If your religion is really worth killing
Then do me a favor and start with yourself
You leave a trail of bones
Not to mention the wasted souls
Do you even believe what you say?
You think of raping kids while you pretend to pray
In God they trust, in guns they invest