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 thats all that you can see.
You are the God of everything --
Hes inside you and me.
So lean upon him gently
And dont call on him to save you
From your social graces
And the sins you used 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 --
With his plastic crucifix --
Hes 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.
Youll be praying till next thursday to
All the gods that you can count.