My God

People, what have you done
Locked Him in His golden cage, His golden cage
Made Him bend to your religion
Him resurrected from the grave, 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, oh
And the sins you used to waive, 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, he's got him fixed
Confuses me as to who and where and why
As to how he gets his kicks, 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