A wounded world An absent creator Empty prayers Fly through the air Like burning paper There's a monster In the garden You call him God. There's a monster In the garden Eating you alive. The only religion I know Is dripping from my pen. The only religion I know Is my lips kissing her skin Out of the darkness Wolves will come. Out of the dark The wolves will come. God is a gun And the bullets are free God is a gun And it's targeting me God is a gun And the bullets are free God is a gun And it's on a shooting spree