Apples are Apples

I am selfish, I am wicked
I am indeed one of your sons
I have fell for all the tricks you pull
And done everything wrong

I am hateful, I am jealous
I am sad and weak and dumb
I have given into my darkness
And turned on everyone

I am not grateful for the good things
'Cause I know that they are fake
And if I were to love them
You would come and take them away

I don't believe in love
And I don't believe in you
I hate God and the president
And myself too

If I ever make it through your gates
You better run, you better run away
'Cause I'm gonna break
Every bone in your face

You should be proud because
You taught me everything I know about bein' cold,
About bein' cruel, about bein' mean
Apples are apples on the ground or on the tree