Wind up

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And they taught me how not to play the game.

I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So I left there in the morning with their God Tucked underneath my arm -
Their half - assed smiles and the book of rules.

And I asked this God a question and by way of firm reply
He said - I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before I'm through, I'd like to say my prayers -

I don't believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong -
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the Bishops harmonise these lines -

How do you dare to tell me that I'm my Father's son
When that was just an accident of Birth.

I'd rather look around me - compose a better song
'cos that's the honest measure of my worth.

In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me
As you lick the boots of death born out of fear.

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And they taught me how not to play the game.

I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So I left there in the morning with their God Tucked underneath my arm -
Their half - assed smiles and the book of rules.

Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the Bishops harmonise these lines

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And they taught me how not to play the game.

I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before I'm through, I'd like to say my prayers

Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the Bishops harmonise these lines

I don't believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong -
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.