IN GOD I TRUST

So the Church is your home, and Christ is your Lord,
but living without sin you become lazy, and bored.
Selling your body is the oldest profession,
but a day in Church will wipe out that lesson,
leaving your mind to play that unwilling chord.

You wear that crucifix while turning tricks,
where in need of money you take your licks.
One more day of retribution,
is your one and only final solution,
to how you get your daily kicks.

You play the Judas on Saturday night,
in tight shorts under a lamp glow light.
Jump in the first that comes your way,
with a final price, your there to play,
while Jesus is always within your sight.

Sunday morning, your pries, and serene,
dressed Sunday best to make the scene.
You sing the song with other folk,
but they know it’s all mirrors, and smoke,
coming from a mixed up teen.

So one day you push the game too far,
and you jump into the wrong kind of car.
Your john is into necrophilia,
so never again will we be seeing ya,
unless we look into a forensic jar.

We should have done something about your future fate,
but we love what you did to our collection plate.
We cared not where the money came,
or if Church and society were to blame,
because we ignored your dirty slate.

So, we hope your beliefs were worth your time,
for they did not protect you from the slime.
We hope now you have your messiah,
and not with the other who’s ready to fry ya.