Next Testament
Quelle: Spotify
AUTHOR: Sage Francis
"Find God!" exclaimed the man, who lost everything he owned, looking stoned
I groaned back, "Find a job, here's an application."
Retaliation: "Here's a pamphlet."
I said, "F**k this damn shit."
My man flipped and threw his hand into his pocket.
Pulled out a bible with a design that looked tribal
The Next Testament was its title
"Look it over."
"A book? Nosuh... what the hell does this have to offer?"
A small mirror on the bottom labeled "author"
that's too impersonal
Irreversible actions leave our mind scarred
looking for the answers. "Find God!" he said again.
But I'm a veteran
knowing that you are no better than or worse than.
He compared my last enemy to my first friend.
This bum gave me his shirt's pen
"What the heck? You're completely tapped, thinking that I'm gonna' write you out a check."
He said, "What?" I said, "WHAT!" Snatched the book in hopes of finding a myth
Lifted up the front cover, broke the binding.
"I bring peace, love happiness and unity!"
Usually I blow it off, but I said, "That ain't what you do to me.
What you do to me is bring pain, hate, ignorance, and false alternatives to my community."
He sat back and thought it over, with a look that's sort of sober.
He stared me in the eye and said "I don't lie"
(Him or me? Me or him?)
Now we begin to quarrel over what's historical
but that's immoral questioning the oracle's origin.
We're born through sin.
"You need to save yourself," he said.
"But Jesus died for our sins." Then he said, "He ain't dead."
"He faked his death?"
I watched my man take a breath as if he had no more patience left.
Then he embraced his chest.
Looked as if the holy spirit was about to manifest itself.
Mental health is what he lacked. I should have known this.
Without God, when we die every Earthling is homeless.
I couldn't look. Tried to give him back his book.
As he shook. But it was stuck to my hand
What the fuck? God damn!
Embellished in sin and with a devilish grin
This denizen could tell that I was selfish within
He started speaking in tongues that I'm unfamiliar with.
I held the pen like a knife and threatened, "I kill your myth!"
Civilians drift into a state of violent anger.
I can tell when I'm in danger so I stopped to take a breather.
"Listen, I'm a non-believer with no faith, and I don't want none either
it's time for me to leave ya', take your book, I ain't no crook."
He said, "It's yours, like the world, read it good, there's directions."
I flipped through the pages, but they were blank, no deceptions.
He mentioned, "Look deeper. You'll see it says more than you could share."
I asked, "Where?"
He replies, "That's what the pen's for."
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