People say my body is a temple
They say it is built in the image of God to honor His glory
They say that decorating His temple and mistreating it is sin and blasphemy
A stain on His glory
If my temple was made for Him then why must it be so decrepit
It's lopsided and the steeple has fallen through
The floorboards creek and the windows are broken
The pews are smashed and the gardens are dead
My temple was left unfinished and tarnished
Demons hide within its unhallowed grounds
They hunt and prey upon all the good I feel
My temple is tarnished and wrong
So I'll rebuild it
In my image
In my glory
I will decorate it with idolatry and blasphemy
In the gardens I will plant spider lilies and hemlock
I will replace the windows with ornate stained glass
Make the steeple a nest for ravens and crows
And on its ceiling I will paint murals to demonstrate its beauty
I'll hang blackened candles on the walls
I'll run out the demons and make this temple finally a place of solace and rest
I will fix my temple
Not in the glory of God
Not for the glory of God
But in and for the glory of myself
This temple is for me and I will decorate it as I please
