In church, when I was just a boy
I was told that I was wicked and believed that I was sickening
They tried to make me believe I was a creature of vice
They had to have me so bad they even dunked me under twice
But then I read the book from cover to cover
Saw the light and I discovered
History is but a flash in the pan, not inspired by a god just written by man
The fear of hell as a means of control can't be used to threaten my soul
Alright, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, well alright
In church, in a back room filled with pews
I was stowed away in the back with the Broadman Hymnal in hand
And that's where I learned to string a song together
From a queer choir director in that southern baptist town
In the pages there I saw a blueprint for rock'n'roll
A tome of worship made for praise only led me to the hell I'd raise
Adulate, exalt, extol, I choose to rock'n'roll all night
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, well alright