Ah, LORD there you are
It's been awhile since we talked
I thought that maybe you thought I was a little too vile
Fouled by perfumes of sin
Consecrating my objects of affection
Within this temple of the body and
Caressing mammon cause this famine
Of manna is so depressing
And I feel like I'm asking for quail
Then when answers come to no avail
I figure it's better to spend eternity in hell
Than to live ill in this cell of hell called earth
Another soul lost to perverse paths traversed
By the wicked their sickness of heart
I could use an injection of God
Vaccination against viruses of virtue
Vices of media images that hurt you 
Dress you up just to shoot you down

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