13.The Last Fantasy Of Christ
His head drops gently upon simple rolled cloth
His meek conditions depress
Reflecting upon the days events
How much time he's lost
Healing the sick, raising the dead
Being a savior
His words create belief
Through a vast wasteland to spread belief
'When will they understand？'
From city to city to spread God's word
A man can live only so long
He sighs drifting off into sleep
So many to touch deeply
In his mind he is right, chosen one
You fucking liar
His dream foretells of his kingdom-die
His picture on walls of bedrooms-almighty Christ
He will be martyred in their eyes-he smiles
People will die forever in-his name
Even if you did exist
You'll never know what happened to us
You died before it even began
But next he sees what will send him into sadness
Depressed, angered, insane, this young girl with a lust
For his blood and his cock, gazing sexually at him
He knows his point is lost on whores and on the rest
No need for him to live, maybe death would even help
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