Naked

There are angels in the orchestra
And Buddha on the balcony with ming-uh-mingling demi-god rebels
And I'm naked, burning sunflowers
Jesus says, kid, I can get you a good deal on a cross if you're suffering
There are streakers in the garden
And magnets in my pocket in case I see a god when I need him
And I'm naked, burning sunflowers
Come on, Mary, I've got monks in the kitchen playing poker with my bagel chips
And all the altar boys are going on a beer run, again
I think they're going for my good side
You know, they're alright, checking out some bowie, ch-ch-changes
Hey, I'm working on my kindness
Sacrificing cherubs for the gods in the corner to belong to
And I'm naked, burning sunflowers
And it's getting trippy with the nuns in the back rolling doobies with the bedlam boys