legendary pink dots - a strychnine kiss lyrics
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cut gl-ss 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 jackboot 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 h-ll.
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