A Strychnine Kiss — текст песни (Legendary Pink Dots)

Cut glass 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 hell.