The Sacreligious, Blasphimist, Heart of a Salvation Seeking Sinner
Pardon me Pastor, if I don't wish to meet your flock of strangers.
Normally they wouldn't meet with a person as strange as me.
Forgive me Father, but I'm not here to help you spoon feed the children of Africa.
I can barely feed my own children, let alone myself.
Sorry all Ye Saints, but I can't help you rebuild Haiti.
While the Temple of my own soul crumbles,
and the foundation that is my faith caves in.
I don't give a damn to hear about your good deeds.
As if you were praying in public like the Pharisees.
And I'm not here to save or change the world.
When I can't seem to change to save myself.
So here's my half 'a dollar your Holiness,
it's not compassion, or my heart, but it's more than I have to give.
This is my Revelation Reverend.
I need to hear the word of God.
And if I can't walk into Heaven with my head held high,
because of the differances I didn't make in so many lives.
Then I guess I'll just have to crawl.
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