You ain’t no sage, mo fo!

Don’t you dare come knockin’ at my door
Guru in your hand me down robes
and your canned sayings with your tearing eyes.

Don’t tell me what to do or what to think.
Go tell it on the mountain and curl your hair some more.

Get off my porch Jehovah nut
and take your pamphlets with you

Before you go, Presumption, meet Thunder.
The only thing I’ll ever introduce you to.

Sanctimonious sidlers with crooked teeth and greasy smiles.
They know it all, the mysteries of the universe, secrets revealed to them alone.

In this sea of randomness we call life, you want to tell us what you think about it all
because your answers are in propagation and your message – indoctrination

You hypnotize, and theorize and create a sycophantic mass
All your parishioners lives are still such a raging mess.

I’ll hand deliver the message to you in an unbending bow.


16 thoughts on “You ain’t no sage, mo fo!

  1. Hah!! I have met those people Cathy.
    They appal me with their pious self-righteousness.
    I once asked one what her faith meant to her. She said it means God forgives her.
    And I thought well that’s terrific – it just means you can carry on doing the same old shit time and time again and being forgiven each time!!!
    Well Bollocks – my God doesn’t work that way.

    I am well out of that relationship methinks


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