My lover's got humour She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval I should've worshipped her sooner
If the Heavens ever did speak She is the last true mouth piece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week
'We were born sick, you heard them say it
My church offers no absolutes She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'
The only heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you
I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well
Aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaamen. Aaaaaaaamen. Amen
* Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice To drain the whole sea Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course That's a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty
That looks plenty This is hungry work
No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then I am human
Only then I am clean Oh, A- men. A- men. A- men