The Angels Are Voyeurs

God is a tender pervert and the angels are voyeurs
 Watching us forever, their vision never blurs
 They make us then forget us for a hundred million years
 And then by chance they glance at us and something in them stirs
 They find us so provocative, so weak, so full of pride
 Our cleverness, our nakedness, fills them with delight
 The way we hold our coffee cups, the way we pick our words
 God is a tender pervert and his angels
 His angels are voyeurs
 And when the tender pervert is too busy to admire us
 He sends his angels down to pass amongst us and desire us
 He gives them little notebooks where they note each quirk and boast
 Our foolish pride and pompousness turn him on the most
 When we're throwing temper tantrums
 When we're giving up the ghost
 The pervert keeps his distance
 But his angels, his angels move in close
 It intoxicates the Spaceman, watching how we thrill ourselves
 Not by sex but by devising new ways to kill ourselves
 He sees the way we tamper with the things we most depend on
 The danger stands his hair on end and gives him a hard-on
 He calls his angels down to watch that slut the world get hers
 God is a tender pervert and his angels
 His angels are voyeurs
 The pervert and his angels hide amongst the stars and watch
 And as we blow ourselves to bits the angels pump their cocks
 Their semen flows across the sky and forms new milky wheys
 And somewhere in some galaxy in less than seven days
 They make a planet more curvaceous and much sexier than ours
 Full of bigger sinners
 More worthy of voyeurs