You say God Loves Ugly.
He adores the misshapen and deformed.
Tramps, whores, and junkies he gathers,
Giving them shelter.
You tell me that cleanliness
Is not Godliness.
The foul, decayed body as close to him
As ever the pristine was.
You speak of how you failed.
The great fall from grace.
Your flesh pierced,
Senses dulled and useless.
You recount how you were spurned;
Defiled and debased.
Left in abandonment,
You keep yourself vacant.
You murmur how God loves ugly…
Well I love Ugly too.