Blurting out words from good to bad,

From infancy to years of sin.

Just as Job with broken pottery,

Popping the boils from his rotten skin.

The list has grown long, ink is almost out,

Pressing are thoughts of my god.

My hands are bound to draw me to prayer,

Yet my eyes toward heaven were clawed.

The blinding juice under the devil's nails

Match the blood guilt upon my knife

Choking on a bite of evil-bearing fruit

As I become as if Adam's wife.

Blasphemers look upon the blood stained bark

From his ransom of death upon a tree

They ask of my reasons and look away my thoughts,

Can't take my isolation from me.

Dancing about the memory of my childhood hero,

One looked down upon by public eye

Can I imagine being there removing a new life,

Into a mother's chest I would pry

I feel my connection to the thoughts of the man

Driven to seclusion in the cell.

The feeling of two heart beats ceased at the

Slice of my knife, rushing forth the blood

And the smell.

A small infant's cry only echoing for seconds,

Death upon it by forced premature birth.

Take a souvenier, a memento of the event,

As the placenta is drank up by the earth.

In idolizing worship to my friend Charlie,

I would tell my soul to pay.

In immortal presence I sense you are here because

Servents never fade away.

Guided by the shallow voices,

Nazi sign upon my forehead, through the

Darkness I know I've been set free.

The force fills me through my

Manson qualities, I'm everywhere because

Satan loves me, Satan loves me, Satan loves me

I'm immortal