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With straight teeth and crooked smile

Trained to deceive and beguile

Hunting for weakness to exploit

A devotee with an ailment to anoint

Another to fall in with the rank and file

Wholly ignorant, in denial

Another parishioner for the prophet

To fill the pews and fill his pockets

Save your breath, I’m not for sale

Give it a rest, I’m not for sale

Spare me your fairytale

Your promises are tired and stale

My soul can’t be bought, I’m not for sale

Here’s the conman in an expensive suit

Selling prosperity to the destitute

A cliché slogan, an empty promise

He’ll make a career out of being dishonest

From a podium or from a pulpit

Everything they say is fucking bullshit

If they stand to profit they’re full of shit

And deep down you’ve always known it

One thing in life that I can’t stand

It’s the selling of the afterlife by a conman

Parasitic prophets trying to make a profit

Selling salvation like a product

Don’t buy their cheap charade

You’ll only end up bitter, dismayed

Trudging through life, devoted every way

Then layin’ on your death bed feeling betrayed