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I have come to visit your children, and I am pleased with what I see. They abuse all kinds of drugs and get drunk, just like me.
They live as Gomorrah or Sodom, their minds perverse and blown. I will claim their souls anytime now, you shouldn't have left them alone.
I'm glad you worked long hours. I'm glad you were busy a lot. It would have been harder to sway them, if you too weren't using pot.
At your schools I have been hard at work, making sex an acceptable game. You slept as I fought to keep prayer out, to add to your neglectful shame.
You don't seem to notice the witchcraft I broadcast on your own t.v., "It's just an innocent program," twitch your nose as they follow me.
Add a couple violent sitcoms, it's funny to see heads blown in two. Now your child has a gun of their own, and there's nothing you can do.
They're mine and you can't reach them, their hearts now cold, hard, and black.
I've shown them how to party with pot, cocaine, and crack.
You've been a big help, I couldn't have done this alone. If you had not neglected your prayer life, these seeds I could not have sewn.
So stay away from the Bible; don't listen to what God has to say. Your children are no longer your problem, a price they'll eternally pay.
Without Christ they are mine to devour. Without God there's nothing you can do. Today I will take your children. Tomorrow, I'm coming for you.
Satan
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