Lyrics: Anna K. Jacobs/Michael R. Jackson
Music: Anna K. Jacobs/Michael R. Jackson
You know the drill son, hands up for Father God
Face away from me
Hands up for Father God, Brad
Pastor, please don't do this, please don't-
When I was a child I spake as a child
I understood as a child
I thought as a child
But when I became a man I put away childish things
A real man doesn't have idle hands
A real man doesn't jack off
A real man lives by the masters' commands
Not like a pig scarfing from a trough
A real man practices self-control
To keep his morals aligned
A real man keeps a clean body, soul, and mind
I don't deserve this, Pastor, I was just trying to-
A real man takes every lash he gets
A real man has a thick skin
A real man learns from all his regrets
So that he'll never have them again
A real man walks on the narrow path
A path the savior has trod
A real man molds himself after Father God
I'm whipping you son 'cause I love you
I'm whipping you son 'cause I care
Pastor, please!
I'm whipping the hell out of you now
To keep your soul from going there
I won't do it again
Don't let Satan deceive you
He will try every trick
So keep your eyes turned to heaven
And keep your hands off of your dick
It was lusting after your mother that gave you birth, Brad
I thank Father God for bringing Dawn into my life to correct that mistake
Yes Pastor, I'm sorry Pastor
Amen, Amen
Truthseekers can you hear me, can you feel my pain?
Yeah Truthseeker, but you gotta do something about Dawn, she's who's really causing you all this pain
Seriously, Truthseeker, Dawn is why your masculinity is vibrating in the goddamn toilet right now
Maybe Dawn is actually the real man in the family
Shut up
A real man shakes off his father's lies
A real man makes his own way
A real man sees the world with cold eyes
In black and white and in predator and prey
A real man takes all his years of rage and he unleashes them mercilessly
'Cause it's Dawn who deserves retribution
Not me