Idle chatter sounds much better to the absent mind
Govern me, kill thy master
You will not enslave me
The root is bitter but the fruit is sweet but not exempt from criticism
Small pox friendship, you die I take
You are the new slave
Don't call me God because I don't have a disease
What is cold to you is love to me
Savior seething rolling you in
Cherub in red said there's nothing to see here
Hallowed be who art in heaven
I refuse to call that fucker by name