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