Now kill all the boys
And kill every woman who has had sex with a man
But save for yourselves the young girls who have not had sex with a man
Save for yourselves, save for yourselves the virgin
Take the virgin children for yourselves
Good boy, good boy, good boy, good boy

The context is missing
Long, long forgotten
Oh the context, the context is on the milk cartons
But they still fill the bottle for that silhouette of air
The babe will crawl home
And suck on excuses and prayers
Context, context
There's context to the slaughter
There is a loving good, good reason
God's quotations kill the daughter
There's a lump under the rug in religion's house
They will dance and defend anything
To keep it from coming out

There's a whore next door
She's your reward
What could you want, could you want that's more
Before her death I heard her say something
I'm biting into an apple
And I'm afraid of nothing

And here they come
With their bullets made of Jesus
The muscle of God that will surely defeat us
The bigger question that's presented
Is: What kind of God are you defending?
The love of a parent that if you deny
That parent will send you straight down
And watch your muscle fry
They will not stop singing and defending that song
Rather find the excuse for massacre than be wrong
Rather ignore the lyrics than stop singing along

There's a whore next door
She's your reward
What could you want, could you want that's more
Before her death I heard her say something
I'm biting into an apple
And I'm afraid of nothing

Oh God says you're such a good boy
Take a child for yourself, for yourself to enjoy
'Cause what God gives, God can take
And give to you with God-given permission to break
Break, break, break
Take, take, take
Good boy, good boy, good boy
Good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good

Context, context
There's context to the gore
Relax your furrowed brow for the rape was blessed by the lord
There is no need for concern, there is no need for a fight
The drug of God's permission will help you sleep
Sleep, sleep at night

There's a whore next door
She's your reward
What could you want, could you want that's more
Before her death I heard her say something
I'm biting into an apple
And I'm afraid of nothing

I'm afraid of nothing (whore next door, she's your reward)
I'm afraid of nothing (oh what could you want, could you want that's more)
I'm afraid of nothing (before her death, I heard her say something)
(God can give innocence, God can take it)
(And give it to a good man to break it)

Women are ghosts
They are sheets, they're complaint
God made their voices and demanded their silence
Oh isn't it strange, the morality of God?
Caters to the ones that control
How strange, how odd
Oh you good fucking joy of a boy
Good, good, good, fucking good, good, good boy
Take a child, take one, take two, take another
Your reward for obeying is kids and blunder
'Cause what God gives, God can take
'Cause what God gives, God can take
'Cause what God gives, God can take
And give to you with God-given permission to break