my lover s got humour she s the giggle at a funeral knows everybody s dissaproval i should ve worshipped her sooner if the heavens ever did speak she is the last true mouthpiece every sundays getting more bleak a fresh poison each week we were born sick you heard them say it my church offers no absolutes she tells me worship in the bedroom the only heaven i ll be sent to is when i m alone with you i was born sick but i love it command me to be well amen take me to church i ll worship like a dog at the shrine of you lies i ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen you knife offer me that deathless death good god let me give you my live if i m a pagan at the good times my lover s the sunlight to keep the goddess on my side she demands a sacrifice so drain the whole sea get something shiny something meaty for the main course that s a fine looking high horse what you got in the stable we ve a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty that looks plenty this is hungry work take me to church i ll worship like a dog at the shrine of you lies i ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen you knife offer me that deathless death good god let me give you my live no masters or kings when the ritual begins there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sins in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene only then i am human only then i am clean amen take me to church i ll worship like a dog at the shrine of you lies i ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen you knife offer me that deathless death good god let me give you my live