I am not a prophet or a teacher 

I am a failure of God 

Standing in a circle of my brothers

Their fangs out


Every thing I had I gave to you 

Every time I tried I would lose 

Its hard not to shake with a gun in your mouth


Every time I try I hear my mothers voice 

And see my mothers eyes 

But when hers close 

Im scared so will mine

You are no brothers


Filing out of the church of Cain 

Like a thousand foot pious snake 

Hiding its sins deep in its stomach 

Digesting them one at a time 


And your voice is a sounding trumpet

Announcing the mountains that youve moved

But love is the farthest thing from you