He'll chase away the skeletons harboured in your Christian closetsnSalutations to a passenger of guilty tripsnOf guilty trips well travellednWell travelled and travellingnThoughts of glory holesnOf angel kissesnOf golden showersnAll cured by a holy bottle of H2OnnSo shock me PeternThis is the daynFor this unruly soul to make its getawaynShock me PeternClear the waynYou're selling lies but it's enough to make me saynGet awaynnA diluted broth of plastic pop songs birthed of sunlight and toxic glitternFed unto the wanting spoonfuls of formaldehyde laced with a pinch of gingernAnd the midnight people banished by oil-slickened productionsnnMy zombie honey, do you realise what you've done?nYour loneliness is killing usnRuled and rulingnBeckoned by the beckoningnnSo shock me PeternThis is the daynFor this unruly soul to make its getawaynShock me PeternClear the waynYou're selling lies but it's enough to make me saynGet awaynnGet away from your golden archesnYour pre-packaged prophets designed to conduct your choreographed livesnMorals for immortalitynQuarrels for brutalitynBlank stares and stifling yawns all fed to the broken massesnnWash it all awaynnAngry egos and holy placebos will cast away the rottingnWith your Hollywood gods all built on a mountain of recycled fleshnDead eyes fashioned with wide smilesnIt's hard to stay beautiful without the tender touch of a scalpel's knifennTell me your storiesnTell me your gloriesnTell me your light and I'll tell you my darknnSo shock me PeternThis is the daynFor this unruly soul to make its getawaynShock me PeternClear the waynYou're selling lies but it's enough to make me saynGet away