The Cherubim and the Seraphim and the Thrones, they all sing,
They raise their wings to the glory of God.

The Dominions and the Powers, and the Virtues,
they all toss their weary heads for the sorrow of god.

The angels don’t know why your skin is so white,
And Jesus don’t know what I know tonight.

My seed will give you the warmest of glows,
And I want your belly full of babies, you know.

The Principalities, the Arch-angels and the Angels and you,
Bring God’s love to my home, my poor broken home.

Oh the Priest and the Priestess show their weakness to the athiests,
They are all alone, serves them damn right, serves them damn right.

The children cry loudest in the athiest houses.