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| 179 8/3/03 Preacher Boy It�s hard to teach a troubled mind, Into believing what just can�t be, Because Trust me now I really do, Just want to believe you But how can I, When all I see, And all I hear, Just isn�t there, And if you cared, You�d tell me why, You teach this crap, Bullshit and Lies... How exactly can you sleep, With all that garbage in your mind, Does it sometimes hurt to think, How your life is just wasted time So if I heard some voices in my head, Could I get a few million people to worship me, Cause that�s really all Jesus did, Do you want to try to explain that to me Cause you have no right, To try to teach me, Or anyone else of that matter, Just how to be happy, If you can�t even produce, One shred of evidence, To convince me how, Any of this even exists So turn around Mr. Preacher Boy, And crawl right back into your hole, Because I don�t believe a single word, About Christ or your Lord. |