Skyclad. Earth mother, The Sun And The Furious Host. Zeneszám

He was just a lad of fifteen years who barely fit his breeches
Latter day, Dick Whittington, who dreamt of fame and riches
His teachers took him to one side and promised him the earth
When all he really wanted was a taste of wine and mirth

They said, "Attend our university, accept responsibility
Chant our mantra of morality until your throat is sore"
A feast of knowledge, this contrite could not suppress his appetite
"Please sir, I want some more and more"

Christianity was apparent as a fallacy
Devil take your Father, Son and Holy Ghost
The ones who have the answers, are they who pipe the dancers
Earth mother, the sun and the furious host

I'll give the whole nation, a sound education
Welcome to the school of hard knocks
Where the ones who know the answers
Are they that take their chances

For a small fish cast into an ocean full of unknown terrors
There's nothing much to smile at in his comedy of errors
Where streets aren't really paved with gold and rags don't turn to riches
In this catalog of disasters, the models were all bitches

Christ on every corner, for a coin he'll save your soul
But it's hard to be enlightened while you're queuing for your dole
When I think of all those shallow lies they fed me in the past
There's one thing I must admit they've taught me that is how to laugh

Christianity, it's nothing but a fallacy
Devil take your Father, Son and Holy Ghost
The ones who have the answers, are they who pipe the dancers
Earth mother, the sun and the furious host

This one's for the teachers who want to be preachers
Will God keep you warm when you're cold?
You'd put those wracked by malnutrition
Straight onto your diet of superstition

Yes, the ones who have the answers
Earth mother, the sun and the furious host