You kill me with your smelly fingers Your smelly fingers from the sex you had on Christmas Day And now you say you're feeling guilty You're feeling guilty 'cos your God was shining on your face You go to church and light a candle And then you're blinded by the light from all the golden pews The devil's snapping at your toes now Because the angels can't be bothered to live up to you

They're selling Jesus again They're selling Jesus again
They want your soul and your money blood and your votes
They're selling Jesus again Selling love to you - selling love

You're buying this you're buying that now You're wishing all the money in the world belonged to you You're crucified upon your own cross now You're givin' money to the white men in the white limo That kind of God is always man made They made him up and wrote a book to keep you on your knees They get their theories from the same place
Then build a church if there's some money left from lying on the beach