Ian Anderson My God
People - what have you done -
Locked Him in His golden cage, golden cage.
Made Him bend to your religion -
Him resurrected from the grave, from the grave.
He is the god of nothing -
If that's all you can see.
You are the god of everything
He's inside you and me.
So lean upon Him gently
And don't call on Him to save
You from your social graces
And the sins you used waive, you used to waive.
The bloody Church of England -
In chains of history -
Requests you're earthly presence
At the vicarage for tea.
And the graven image you - know - who -
With His plastic crucifix -
He's got him fixed -
Confuses me as to who and where and why -
As to how he gets his kicks, he gets his kicks.
Confessing to the endless sin -
The endless whining sounds.
You'll be praying till next Thursday
To all the gods that you can count.
