Hips

Get your, get your hands off

Bad Christian, dirty teeth
Dark thoughts always eat at me
Such a shame, hate to be me
Never escaped, but now I

See you squirming like a worm under the microscope (Mm-hm)
I know you know we know that this system's 'bout to blow

I'm done catering to your lie
That God only loves me in a suit and tie
Been biting my tongue right behind my lips
Get your religious hands off my hips

Good Christian, squeaky clean
Less asking for emotional needs
But I can't please those eyes
I'm spitting up the guilt you fed me, and kiss it goodbye

I'm done catering to your lie
That God only loves me in a suit and tie
Been biting my tongue right behind my lips
Get your religious hands off my hips

Hands off the way I dress, the way I speak
Why are you obsessed?
Hands off the way I pray, the words I sing
Why are you obsessed?
Hands off my hips, my head, my hands, my heart
My pain, my songs, my art
Hands off my choice to bring my worst to the light
You hate to see my worth in Christ

Oh, and I'm done catering to your lie
That God only loves me in a suit and tie
Been biting my tongue right behind my lips
Get your religious hands off my hips