Take every bullet that exists and shoot me,
turn me into lace.
I don’t care if I cease to be,
if I die for that then I’ve won my case.
I know it’s wishful thinking,
I know I’m lost.
I know the world is sinking,
I’d kill god at any cost.
I’d like to think that this mess is a coincidence,
I’d like to think that this isn’t meant.
Because if this isn’t an incidence,
then god must be terrible to have this intent.
All the death and all the loss,
all the lives wasted and all the chances forsaken.
Our lives depend on a coin toss,
our goals are gone, taken.
So take all the matches out there and burn me alive,
for I can’t live with god anymore.
I can no longer strive or thrive,
for god’s words are made of gore.
Why didn’t god think of the sick and the poor,
why did he create himself and us?
Why does he let children suffer what they can’t endure,
for that, in him I distrust.
Let me take every wronged soul’s blood
and every tortured eyes’ tears.
Let me drink god’s cold blood,
let me end all your fears.