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