things can only get better

god is dead
as dungarees and dummies
we've seen those kids in africa
with weird distended tummies
and the flood reports that end with
orphans screaming for their mummies

and i'm thinking
christ almighty god
this is really bad pr
it's making you look out of touch
a bit smug
like you're not listening anymore

god is dead

holy shit

then it hits me
not a bolt, but a supercharged idea
and it's easier to assemble
than a wardrobe from ikea

new god

a progressive deity
for the twenty-first century

he's got a built-in fanbase
from faux-hilton pram face
to chin-stroking cynical
hampstead heath sceptic
he's clean but not clinical,
more¦ antiseptic
winning back white van man
with bacon butties during sermons
on England's football victories
and how we beat the germans

and his cool sound's
bound to resound
with the pink pound
round stinky underground clubs
his righteous love-dubs
get 'em in
the bat-faced dyke and bummer
psalms sprinkled like ketamine
into fat-bassed donna summer

god is dead
long live
new god!

neglecting women's issues?
are you tripping balls?
new god loves women!

glamming-up for gloucester girl
with ultra-modern bibles
pap-snapped glossy fashion tips
and columns crammed with libel
check out the six-page spread
on judith and holofernes' glitzy Italian wedding!
plus job-lots of sun-blessed valium
for the stressed-out wives of reading!

come on ladies, kill the wabbit
climb down off the tumble drier
there's a spiritual habit
that can take you so much higher
new god
guarantees
consistently satisfying sexual experiences!
no more backward fumbles with cack-handed lovers
who prod at your clit
like an impatient door-to-door salesman
jabbing the entry buzzer!
new god
gives
twat-busting orgasms
on demand!
turn those lazy weekday nights
into crazy carnivals
of frothy-snatched delight!

god is dead
please get it through your pimply head
old god is dead as simply red
prostrate before
new god
instead!

new god is good!
a miracle in every home!
new god's image
grinning through the spinach
of your eggs
florentine or scorched
onto your tortilla
swimming in the bloody dregs
of last evening's sangria
and no more guilt!
new god loves it when you
get bored and
fuck your neighbour's wife
or knife a cat
it's your life!
he's no nanny deity
keen to chide you
for a side order of
forbidden fanny gaiety

after all
new god
is a million
no
fifty billion miles tall
and he bitch-slapped
the old god
to death
with his wang
snorted coke off the corpse
while the cherubim sang
new god is sick!
new god is ill!
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