Secret Xtians - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

I’m going to hide from the rain, I am tired of running

Round while these nuns eat my grain

Ransacking, wolf-packing rats in a cult of fame, so lame

Secret Christians are all the same, don’t be grumpy and cold

If you want to I can burn up a hole in this coal

Don’t be surprised if it warms up right when we die tonight

Secret Xtians are not too bright

Na-na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na-na