Picture me at 12 - annunciation day,
To be sent off to the Falklands,
That's for what I prayed.
And the beads moved through my fingers,
As I marched around the schoolyard on parade.
(And I wanted to believe every word I said)
Captive from the start - you can't even find the door.
Yes, eternal peace awaits,
But for now, you get eternal war.
And now even the government knows
What the fuck it's for anymore.
So keep on praying to Mary,
Virgin mother, cheatin' whore.

Matty, you were born on Christmas Day,
And just like the one,
They call Jesus Christ,
You had 33 years,
Before they sent you on your way.
And though you'll never be resurrected,
Well, neither was he,
Despite what they say.
But don't get your hopes up, my friends,
'Cause that don't mean
That there ain't no
Judgment Day.