Hello, my son, welcome to the house of God
Good morning, Father
I would like to confess my sins
Of course, what would you like to confess?
I keep havin' these dreams, dreamin' of murder
And I just wake up, feelin' disgustin' with blood all over me every morning
It's okay, the blood is not real, the dreams are not real, these murders are not happenin'
You don't, you don't understand, Father, this is a hundred percent real
You're dreamin' of sins
Ah, you don't fuckin' get it
Who are you, who are you murdering in these dreams? Let's see
Murderin' God, Father, I'm murderin'
Every, everybody knows this cannot happen, my son
You don't get it, I'm murderin' fuckin' God
I've seen the blood of Jesus on my hands, I've seen the death of God
You have to calm down, no, you calm fuckin' down, you calm down, bitch
Taker a breath, please, sit down
I've seen the death of fuckin' God, shut the fuck up
Matter f-, shut the fuck up
Stupid lil' bitch