Nothing makes sense anymore
I've never felt so low
Another Sunday greets me at the door
I just wish one day
Sunday would take a physical form
So I could kick out its fucking teeth
And leave it bloody in the street
This religious bullshit day of rest
Is just another excuse for our lazy
Would rather sign on the dole
Stay at home and watch TV
Eating fast fatty foods
Aiding cholesterol and weight gain generation
Using the house of god
As their own personal ATM
Looking for an answer to their prayers
Printed on cash withdrawn
From the empty pockets
Of the working class
Who aren't just being raped
By pig headed, elected, shrivelled dicks
But, by gluttonous, slothenly vain pricks
Who complain about there being no jobs
But, have no intention of working
Or, trying to better themselves
Especially not on bloody Sunday
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