Legendary Pink Dots - A Strychnine Kiss
Cut Glass Cathedrals Slash Holes In The Air
So It Always Is Raining When We Kneel Down In Prayer
And Christ Leans And Laughs . . . Christ!
He's Shaking His Head Cos The Wine's Portugese And The Bread's Only Bread . . .
No Trance, No Substance, No Conscience For Sure
As The Pope Licks A Jack- Boot And Lays Down The Law.
And His Flock Form A Cross--all Fall Down With Disease.
And The Only Survivors Are Him And His Priests.
In Them Thar Seven Hills There's A Big Crock Of Gold,
But It's All Stashed In Sacks And Belongs To A Pole.
And Name Any Language, He's Got Something To Sell,
But If You Add It Up, It's A Ticket To Hell
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