Striking at mental apparitions
Like a [bad word] on a vacant street
Silently beset by the hands of time
Indelicate in its fury
An aberrant crack as skeletons yield
To unrelenting gravity
While [bad word] prowl for helpless victims
Who succumb rapidly

(Tell me!) Tell me; where is the love?
In a careless creation
When there’s no “above”
There’s no justice
Just a cause and a cure
And a bounty of suffering
It seems we all endure
And what I’m frightened of
Is that they call it “God’s love”

Twisted torment, make-believe
There’s a [bad word] and we all submit
“Believe my eyes,” my [bad word] To all that they interpret
 [bad word] 

I know there’s no reason for alarm
But who needs perspective when [bad word] to pain and harm
We can change our minds; there’s a better prize

But first you’ve got to… [bad word] 

They call it God’s love
My pain is God’s love