Hello, my son, welcome to the house of God Good morning, Father I would like to confess my sins Of course, what would you like to confess? I keep havin' these dreams, dreamin' of murder And I just wake up, feelin' disgustin' with blood all over me every morning It's okay, the blood is not real, the dreams are not real, these murders are not happenin' You don't, you don't understand, Father, this is a hundred percent real You're dreamin' of sins Ah, you don't fuckin' kiddin' Who are you, who are you murderin' in these dreams? Let's see Murderin' God, Father, I'm murderin', every, everybody knows this cannot happen, my son You don't get it, I'm murderin' fuckin' God, I've seen the blood of Jesus on my hands, I've seen the death of God You have to calm down, no, you calm fuckin' down, you calm down, bitch Please, sit down, I've seen the death of fuckin' God, shut the fuck up, motherfu– shut the fuck up Stupid lil' bitch