Say a little prayer for me.
I’ll say a little prayer for you.
You and I are nonbelievers, we will likely burn eternally.
Yes, we need your prayers it’s true
but save a few for yourselves, prayers add up
and we know salvation is a game of numbers
now the American Empire has come to heaven.
The CFO has put the angels on notice,
“Sing choirs of angels.
Sing in exploitation,” on cue, for the commercial.
Show them what a spiritual experience buying a car can be.
Amen brothers and sisters, the end-times are here,
in the nick of time too. It seems God is on the verge
of irrelevancy in this The Age of Dollars and Hubris.
Prepare for rapture or to go through the wallets
of those who have. I have decided to have ‘333’ tattooed
on my arm to let the Devil know what I really think of him.
My girl wants to go the heaven so she has given up on sex,
“The Saints never fucked,” she said.
Well, maybe, but fucking is overrated anyway.
Saints spend a lot of time on their knees you know.
My baby got her wish. Now she can spend eternity on her knees,
The Earth has become a paradise, bad girls everywhere.
It’s surprising to see who was left behind. Some of my best
friends are gone, most of my family too, my dogs refused to go.
I am making so many new friends. People are happier, less stressed,
and the sex, well I’ll just say I was wrong about fucking,
and the Saints have nothing on the left-behinders.
Kneepads were the number one stocking stuffer last Christmas.
Anyway, that’s an update on the Rapture in case you missed it.