God never knew we could fight so dirty
Hit below the belt
Leave him flailing on the ropes
Bruised and bloodied to hell.
Our uppercuts of religion
Smashing into his skull
Blurred vision slows his fighting skills
And we go in for the kill.
The ref is counting, we dance in the ring
We've regained man's true title
But when God's down and the towels' thrown in
We've no opponent left to fight for.
So instead we fight amongst ourselves
Each believing our cause to be holy
The sacred bomb and gun and knife
Doing our God's will daily.
And when the last man twitches and groans
And slides into oblivion
God will hire another promotor
And the fight will simply begin again.
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