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 a part of 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 wash to 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

he's got him fixed

with his plastic crucifix

confuses me as in who and where and why

as to how he gets his kicks.

Confessing to endless sin

the endless whining sounds.

You'll be praying till next Thursday to

all the God that you can count