Fresh Out of Candles

Back in the fifties
Clark Kent died;
It's a bird
It's a plane
It's suicide;

Now, God got angry
And the pope got mad
And told all the faithful
That the saints went bad

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Stole the bacon and burnt the toast;
Fresh out of candles
Poor St. Blaise went on chokin'
Chokin' on steak and eggs

Hail Mary, full of grace
Lay up the ante and play the ace;
Fresh out of candles
Poor St. Blaise went on chokin'
Chokin' on steak and eggs

Now, St. Christopher got big and strong
From luggin' babies all day long;
Keeping Jesus from gettin' wet
And I guess that's just the thanks he gets;

Now he's off the wagon, and out of luck
Got drunk and wrecked the truck;
And all little cherubim a-singing
"Why'd ya have to pick on him?"

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Stole the bacon and burnt the toast;
Fresh out of candles
Poor St. Blaise went on chokin'
Chokin' on steak and eggs

Now, God wasn't kidding
And neither was Abraham;
And your mama can't save you
And your daddy don't give a damn;

What was it, or wasn't it believing in?
And when did it stop feeling, feeling like a sin
To hope, a sin to pray?
And the light got dark, and stayed that way;

And I am fresh out of candles
Fresh out of candles
Fresh out of candles (Fresh out of candles)
And I am fresh out of candles
Fresh out of candles...
Fresh out of candles...
Fresh out...