My God
Jethro Tull
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 that 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 to wave.
You used to wave.
The b***** Church of England, in chains of history,
Requests your 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
Cross-Eyed Mary
Mary ...
Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief,
If he had a rich man in his hand?
And who would steal the candy from a laughing baby's mouth,
If he could take it from the money man?
Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract, but she always plays the game.
She dines in Hampstead village on expense-accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Laughing in the playground, gets no kicks from little boys.
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-Eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl, and she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich-man's stealer, but her favour's good and strong.
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate, helps the poor man get along.
Laughing in the playground, gets no kicks from little boys.
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract, but she always plays the game.
She dines in Hampstead village on expense-accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Cross-Eyed Mary
Oh Mary
Oh Cross-Eyed Mary
Jethro Tull
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 that 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 to wave.
You used to wave.
The b***** Church of England, in chains of history,
Requests your 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
Cross-Eyed Mary
Mary ...
Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief,
If he had a rich man in his hand?
And who would steal the candy from a laughing baby's mouth,
If he could take it from the money man?
Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract, but she always plays the game.
She dines in Hampstead village on expense-accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Laughing in the playground, gets no kicks from little boys.
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-Eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl, and she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich-man's stealer, but her favour's good and strong.
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate, helps the poor man get along.
Laughing in the playground, gets no kicks from little boys.
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract, but she always plays the game.
She dines in Hampstead village on expense-accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Cross-Eyed Mary
Oh Mary
Oh Cross-Eyed Mary