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