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People -- what have you done -- |
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Locked him in his golden cage. |
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Made him bend to your religion -- |
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Him resurrected from the grave. |
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He is the god of nothing -- |
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If that's all that you can see. |
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You are the god of everything -- |
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He's inside you and me. |
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So lean upon him gently |
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And don't call on him to save you |
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From your social graces |
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And the sins you used to waive. |
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The bloody church of england -- |
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In chains of history -- |
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Requests your earthly presence at |
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The vicarage for tea. |
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And the graven image you-know-who -- |
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With his plastic crucifix -- |
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He's got him fixed -- |
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Confuses me as to who and where and why -- |
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As to how he gets his kicks. |
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Confessing to the endless sin -- |
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The endless whining sounds. |
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You'll be praying till next thursday to |
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All the gods that you can count. |
