You'll see, we'll be fine everybody if we climb, everybody, to the cross on the hill,
"Feed me, heal me," whines everybody,
Blinds everybody and nobody will.

Motorboats on the red sea,
Altar candles on the TV,
We killed the prophets and we hung the son,
And finally got our kingdom come.

We'll wake up, make up and cry everybody,
Die everybody at the cross on the hill,
"Astound me, crown me," whines everybody,
Blinds everybody, so nobody will.

We've got no taste for the new wine,
Just want our faces on the prime time,
There was that day we fed the poor, we just don't believe them anymore.

A house and pool in the promised land,
A slice of pie for the son of man,
A little prayer, our ten percent and a crocodile tear for any regret.

You'll see, we'll be fine everybody if we climb, everybody, to the cross on the hill,
"Feed me, heal me," whines everybody,
Blinds everybody and nobody will.

And nobody will,
And nobody will,
And nobody will,
And nobody will.