Rise of a Misanthropic Mad Preacher

I'm so tired of all these things Dear God
For it seems that with everything that I do everyday
It always comes with detractors front rear and centre
And always goes with successes at my life's expense!

So what is it that a Lightworker supposed to do?
Where would he turn to when everyone else turns away?
Sometimes I feel that my home is in some other earths
Sometimes I feel that my life is a joke!

All in all I find my ways are too alien to the rest of the world
The way I see things, views on my peers, my conducts in Real Life
They would always think it's so strange be they blatant or secretive
And never did I miss, the notion around me, that I never should have existed!

Yes, I tried to fight back once, and tried to fit in next
But whatever I did is just a boring yarn to me
I felt like, whether I lived and survived, or crashed and burned in the end
Nothing is going to make much of a difference in this world-or to mine!

Now what do You believe this world has
That they don't want me to have Dear God?
Why is it so hard to begin with, to begin the beginning itself?
Or whether would I be so sane enough in the end
To see its ending right at the point of where it should end?
Who do You believe could help me, other than beings only I can see?

Oh, if only I was given access to all the nuclear weapons in this world
Then I would know exactly what to do with them!
Why is it so much of a fuss, to live with the very scums everyday
That I was born to protect them yet they'd sabotage me without them knowing it?

I mean why should I help those who try to cut me down???!!!
Why can't I just blow them all up???!!!
I hate people!!!
I really hate, hate, HATE PEOPLE!!!!

There, enough said.