My lover's got humor
She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshipped her sooner
If the heavens ever did speak
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak
With 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 you.
Command me to be well.
Amen.
Amen.
Amen.
Amen.
Take me to church.
I worship like a dog at the shrine of your life.
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife.
Offer me that deathless death, the good God,
let me give you my life
If I'm a pagan of the good times,
my love is the sunlight
Keep the goddess on my side,
she demands her sacrifice
Drain the whole sea,
get some shiny Something meaningful, the main course
It's a fine looking house What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty
That looks plenty This is hungry work
Take me to church I'll worship like a dog
Let's dare the good God,
let me give you my life
Take me to church,
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your life
I'll pay you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Let the good God,
let me give you my life
No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle