No more visions in hotel rooms
I just can't take any more
There's enough weirdos already in this world
Without you knocking at my door
Without you knocking at my door
Well I'm sick to the teethc, I'm sick to death
Of fanatical sects
Of fanatical sects
Of fanatical sects
And there's no God, no Saviour, no miracle five year plan
Just another doorstep salesman
Causing my chips to burn in the pan
Yes they've burn in the pan
Yes they've burn in the pan
And that's why I don't wanna talk to you
You say there's only one God Almighty
And I ought to come in from the cold
But you're disciples of hypocrisy
Because there's more than one prophet* involved
Because there's more than one prophet* involved
Well I'm sick to the teethc, I'm sick to death
Of fanatical sects
Of fanatical sects
Of fanatical sects
I have come to the conclusion
If you refuse blood transfusions
Then you're certainly insane
To cause such suffering and pain
In the name of God
In the name of God
In the name of God
In the name of God
Condemn to death that person in that bed
And there's no God, no Saviour, no miracle five year plan
Just another doorstep salesman
With the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the wold world in his hands
And that's why I don't want to talk to you
And my mother really needs a hip replacement
But she'll have to wait a couple of years
While money still purs into religious wars
The Church is up in arms about Channel Four
And the only way to God is thorught the floor of your hall
When death knocks at your door
You won't go to bloody church anymore
And that's why I don't wanna talk to you