Well, I never really understood religions,
Except it seems a good reason to k**.
Everybody's got their own conceptions,
And you know, they always will.
These days are needles under my skin.
Jesus shootin' h**n. If there are priests at your party,
And you're playing cards that are numbered,
And you got no reason to think it,
Until your chances are uncovered.
Tell me that I got to believe in,
Jesus shootin' h**n. The police in New York city,
Chased a boy, right through the park.
In a case of mistaken identities,
They put a bullet through his heart. I met Mary, on the corner with the streetlights.
She asked me if I'd come up to her room.
I told her that I didn't have no money.
She said she had to leave pretty soon.
I decided that I would go in.
Jesus shootin' h**n.