Jerusalem on the Jukebox

Jerusalem on the Jukebox, they talk in tongues on Coronation Street
 Heaven help the Pharisee whose halo has slipped down to his feet
 A thousand satellite comedians have died for your sins
 Jerusalem on the jukebox, little angels, beat your wings
 At poolside picnics they chant for Ferraris and furs
 Their muscle-tone sharpens but their hold on reality blurs
 You can have your cake and eat it, and never have to puke up a thing
 Jerusalem on the jukebox, little angels, beat your wings
 In the bathroom mirror they try that Joan of Arc look again
 Two parts Ingrid Bergman to one part Shirley MacLaine
 The wounds of time kill you but the surgeon's knife only stings
 Jerusalem on the jukebox, little angels, beat your wings
 In video-suburbia the blue light flickers and flames
 Ecstasy and holy blackmail are the favorite games
 And God has the sharpest suit and the cleanest chin
 Jerusalem on the jukebox, little angels, beat your wings
 The bride checks her hair and her make-up, and here comes the groom
 What one-eyed monster comes slouching into your front room
 Rudolph Valentino or the curse of the two-legged things
 Jerusalem on the jukebox, little angels, beat your wings