dealers of guilt - profane omen lyrics
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twisting the truth with a tongue so worthless that even the taste of sh-t goes to waste, vomit those words in case someone hasn’t heard your opinion!
raise yourself to be a preacher; tell the people how to live a sorry life, pretending you’re not condescending
i hate your guts!
the parasites dealing this guilt with their lies
i dream of the day when the last of those leeches will die, will die!
worthless words from a worthless mouth, but the noise you make heard over the truth
i’m not listening so quit your endless b-tchin’
let me be!
false preacher, a mail-order jesus got the answers i don’t f-cking want
you’re not a master, i’m not a puppet
go stare at a barrel of a gun!
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