Some people worship the Trinity/
the father, the son, and the holy ghost/
but those guys just don't cut it for me/
I worship the things I value the most/
What I can steal, eat, drink and toke/
an aero, a smoke, and a vanilla coke/
So help me Lord ‘cause I’m going down/
A rabbit hole tryna of be profound/
I watched your films and read the Book/
But nothing makes up for what you took/

If you take my snacks I’ll start a fight/
Pinch any of my smokes left right goodnight/
Take a sip of my drink your jaw breaks in three/
Cause this is my holy trinity/
The father, the son and the holy ghost/
Apparitions I conjure from Winfield smoke/
I can buy my way to heaven with a loyalty card/
And get a free coffee when I hit the bar/

Can you believe the words written on the Sign/
No smoking here or you cop a fine/
Take my hand I’ll lead you away/
To a heaven I built with no ashtrays/
All manner of vice is catered to here/
No judgement and no reason to fear/
No gods no masters Ayn Rand would be proud/
It’s a paradise I built tryna act profound/

So what’s it gonna be?/
How can you live tryna act so free?/

Those sirens at night call you to stare/
At the servo deals from your best nightmare/
12 bucks in the bank living like a king/
Can afford magazines that satiate your kinks/
Get spotted beating off by the midnight beat/
Cuffed and booked for the twelfth time that week/

Can you believe the words written on the Sign/
No jerking it here what a fuckin’ punchline/
Take my hand I’ll lead you away/
To a heaven where pleasure is public and you’re free to spray/
All manner of vice is catered to here/
No judgement and no reason to fear/
No gods no masters Ayn Rand would be proud/
It’s a paradise I built tryna act profound/

St. Peter knows I’m going out tonight/
Back of ol’ Francis Xavier makes me feel alright/
Gonna get down on my hands and knees/
Pray for prosperity and cheap ciggies/
Is mercury a god from the Roman days?/
Or the cheapest tinnie that’s on display/
I write, little rhymes in a notebook app/
And read ‘em to myself when I feel like crap/
I came, I saw, I drank myself to death/
I reached heaven with a half pack of cigarettes/
Rolled from the Cliff Notes of my unwritten memoirs/
It’s fun bein’ smart sitting in a burning car
It’s all sarcasm and acidic tones/
Now even my parents leave me alone/
So I asked to get in to the pearly gates/
But the man told me ‘no freeloaders mate’/
So I settled for second best at RSEA/
Bought a hi-vis and a plastic ashtray/
Snuck into a CBD building site/
I build my own heaven now, I gentrify thru’ the night/