Well, all's not well
But I'm told that it'll all be quite nice
You'll be drowned in boots like Mafia
But your feet will still float like Christ's
Well, I'll be damned
They were right
I'm drowning upside down
My feet afloat like Christ's

I'm in heaven trying to figure out which stack
They're gonna stuff us atheists into
When Peter and his monkey laugh
And I laugh with them
I'm not sure what at
They point and say
"We'll keep you in the back"
Polishing halos, baking mana and gas

Well, some guy comes in
Looking a bit like everyone I've ever seen
He moves just like Crisco Disco
Breath 100% Listerine
He says, looking at something else
But directing everything to me
"Anytime anyone gets on their knees to pray
Well, it makes my telephone ring"
And I'll be damned

He said. "You were right, no one's running this whole thing"
He had a theory, too
He said that God takes care of himself, God takes cares of himself
And you of you
He said that God takes care of himself, God takes care of himself
And you of you
He said that God takes care of himself, God takes care of himself
And you of you

It's all nice
It's all nice on ice, alright
It's all nice
It's all nice
It's all nice on ice, alright

It's all nice
It's all nice
It's all nice on ice, alright
I said it's all nice
It's all nice
It's all nice on ice, alright

It's not dead, and it is nice
It's all nice on ice, alright
Alright