Come Sunday night he shakes his robes
Wipes the lipstick from his neck,
Watching his disciples dance seductively,
He throws the offering upon the stage

With a devilish smile he takes a drink,
The blood of Christ slithers down his throat
The devil lives in him,
With dirty money in his bible

Women flock to hear his gospel
Knowing that their confession won’t come cheap
They search for peace of mind in his words
Looking for an easy way to reach eternal peace

Loyal followers place money in the plate
Whilst proverbs 23-27 escapes his lips,
“For an adulteress woman is a deep pit”
He bows his head, eyes closed