God doesn't love you God doesn't care You lie on the slab with blood in your hair And the voices of angels are flat and austere Well, that's what you get if you don't book Musicians and beer You stand on the vanquished Your feet on their chests Posing like starlets In bulletproof vests Your wife doesn't love you She's sick of the fear Sick of living without Musicians and beer So lock up your daughters Shit, you already did At least Muddy Waters can't fuck with your kids I'm an avid blasphemer with a passion for queer 'Cause I can't live without musicians and beer My granddaddy's Bible, so brooding and black Lies like a tombstone on my own daddy's back And we lowered him down without a tear So he died like a pauper Without musicians and beer So this is an order Get yourself some Musicians and beer