Fear and Loathing in Mahwah, NJ

Why do you do the things you've done
 And how dumb would you have to be
 To do them again like I know you're going to
 If you're the poet you say you are and beauty's in everything you see
 Then how can love exist in a world run by people like you
 Because when there's suffering, you're there
 From southern trees, you hang them in the air
 The world screams out in agony and you don't care
 But should the shit hit the fan
 I just pray you will not be spared
 Fuck you
 You took a heart with so much room for love
 And filled it with hatred and rage
 Until there was nothing left but for it to shrivel up and die
 People will tell you that if you don't love your neighbor then you don't love God
 But no god of mine would put light in such unrighteous eyes
 Now the way we hold each other so tight
 Would look more like a noose if held up to the light
 Because we betray each other in dreams every night
 Now let's never speak of it again, all right
 Even now I curse the day, and yet, I think
 Few come within the compass of my curse
 Wherein I did not some notorious ill
 As kill a man, or else devise his death
 Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it
 Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself
 Set deadly enmity between two friends
 Make poor men's cattle break their necks
 Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night
 And bid the owners quench them with their tears
 Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves
 And set them upright at their dear friends' doors
 Even when their sorrows almost were forgot
 And on their skins, as on the bark of trees
 Have with my knife carved in Roman letters
 'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead
 Tut! I have done a thousand dreadful things
 As willingly as one would kill a fly
 And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
 But that I cannot do ten thousand more