Christ Miss

Oh come all ye
Out of the woodwork
Day of indulgence
Paganism, twisted
Defiled for the masses
Slapped onto a doctrine
Like a Made in China sticker
On a shiny tonka toy
Happy Birthday, Jesus
And bacon for breakfast
To celebrate your Jewness
Pay-per-view in pajamas
And starry-eyed desire
Concocting the next reach
Resolutions as likely
As a messiah’s return
Resolve, a prerequisite
I’ve long ago lost
I’ll make you a deal
Tell me where I’m going
And I’ll be all over that tae bo video
Like a fat man on cookies
I’ll crush this grit into the ground
Like your path has crushed my ego
Ungently, I might add
You pious rapist, you
Unanswering, just echos
Better luck with Hey Google
Than the Alpha and Omega
Age of miracles overshadowed
By smog and megapixels
Where are you now?
Happy Birthday, fucker.

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