Every song is a kind of prayer
Every prayer is a kind of advertising jingle
Every jingle is a kind of epitaph
Song-prayer to the Volcano God
They say he has an invisible hand
That builds up the wealth of nations
But the hand that I see every day
Takes away 'til nothing good remains
Volcano God, Volcano God
Which one of my treasures will you take from me today?
Volcano God, Volcano God
Praise you with my screams as I watch them fall away
And when Spartacus was up on the cross
I betcha he had no illusions
What he was an advertisement for
As he sang his last song-prayer:
Volcano God, Volcano God
Which one of my treasures will you take from me today?
Volcano God, Volcano God
Praise you with my screams as I watch them fall away
Volcano God, Volcano God
Your appetite grows stronger with each morsel that you're fed
Volcano God, Volcano God
Praise you with my screams 'til you decide to make me dead