These lyrics take a critical and satirical stance on the commercialization and exploitation found within certain religious contexts, particularly targeting the phenomenon of televangelism and the like. From my perspective, the song opens with a stark contrast between the sanctity of religious sacrifice and the crass commercialism some religious figures engage in, using lines like "Believe in me, send no money / I died on the cross and that ain't funny." This sets the tone for a broader critique of how spiritual messages are manipulated for financial profit.
From where I stand, the song portrays a deeply cynical view of religious leadership. It accuses them of selectively interpreting religious texts to benefit themselves, effectively spiritually misleading their followers for monetary gain. The term "holy smoke" seems to represent the fleeting and empty promises made by such figures, juxtaposing the idea of holiness with the transient and insubstantial nature of smoke.
The lyrics further delve into my skepticism towards the integrity of these religious figures, likening them to "plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke," which suggests that their actions might serve malevolent purposes rather than any divine will. The inclusion of figures like "Jimmy Reptile" and the evocation of book burnings, alongside Nazi imagery, accentuates the manipulation and control exerted over the faithful, drawing parallels to authoritarian tactics.
Humorously exaggerated scenarios, such as Noah's Cadillac and the post-mortem luxury of a Lincoln for a bed, serve to underscore the absurdity of conflating material wealth with spiritual righteousness from my viewpoint.
In essence, the song articulates my critique of the ways in which faith can be exploited by those seeking to profit from it, highlighting the irony and danger of placing blind faith in leaders who are more interested in personal gain than in fostering genuine spiritual growth.
Believe in me, send no money
I died on the cross and that ain't funny
But my so called friends they're making me a joke
They missed out what I said like I never spoke
They choose what they want to hear, they don't tell a lie
They just leave out the truth as they're watching you die
They're saving your souls by taking your money
Flies around shit, bees around honey
I died on the cross and that ain't funny
But my so called friends they're making me a joke
They missed out what I said like I never spoke
They choose what they want to hear, they don't tell a lie
They just leave out the truth as they're watching you die
They're saving your souls by taking your money
Flies around shit, bees around honey
Holy smoke holy smoke, plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Making holy smoke
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Making holy smoke
Jimmy Reptile and all his friends
Say they gonna be with you at the end
Burning records burning books
Holy soldiers Nazi looks
Crocodile smiles just wait a while
'Til the TV queen gets her make-up clean
I've lived in filth I've lived in sin
And I still smell cleaner than the shit you're in
Say they gonna be with you at the end
Burning records burning books
Holy soldiers Nazi looks
Crocodile smiles just wait a while
'Til the TV queen gets her make-up clean
I've lived in filth I've lived in sin
And I still smell cleaner than the shit you're in
Holy smoke holy smoke, plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Holy smoke
Smells good
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Holy smoke
Smells good
They ain't religious but they ain't no fools
When Noah built his Cadillac it was cool
Two by two they're still going down
And the satellite circus just left town
I think they're strange and when they're dead
They can have a Lincoln for their bed
Friend of the president trick of the tail
Now they ain't got a prayer a hundred years in jail
When Noah built his Cadillac it was cool
Two by two they're still going down
And the satellite circus just left town
I think they're strange and when they're dead
They can have a Lincoln for their bed
Friend of the president trick of the tail
Now they ain't got a prayer a hundred years in jail
Holy smoke holy smoke, plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Holy smoke
Feed 'em in feet first, this is no joke
This is thirsty work, making holy smoke, yeah
Holy smoke
