New Academics - The Apple Lyrics

At the turn of the century
The skies were set ablaze by our saviour's re-entry
As God sent his son down to earth
Saying, "Boy, it's time you got back to work"
Touching down in the city of sirens
He went looking for a job, but nobody was hiring
As hunger slid its hands 'round his throat
Peace and love packed up their bags and eloped

In a suit on the seventh floor
Satan preaches to the board
Keeping the profits/prophets lining up
It's always useful to moralise from airconditioned paradise
The apple is never large enough

Jesus squatted down on a pavement in Hillbrow
Ring of thorns replaced with a razor-wire crown
The guilty rolling past where he skulked
In SUV's that they filled up with their bulk
Anger surged through his frame with its hot flow
Picking up a half-brick he destroyed a car window
And grabbed a wallet from its place on the seat
Saying, "Forgive me father, but tonight I must eat"

In a suit on the seventh floor
Satan preaches to the board
Keeping the profits lining up
It's always useful to moralise from airconditioned paradise
The apple is never large enough

Around the corner from the scene
Two constables licked their fingers clean
Of wors and beans
Until their grooming rites were surpassed
By the screaming of the middle class
And breaking glass
All attention to the street
They saw a man flee through the stifling heat
In sandled feet
In a blur of sound and might
They cut him off just past the traffic lights
And read the lord his rights

Peering down from his steel and glass tower
Satan saw his chance for an increase in power
And secured the full weight of the law
Via a series of transfers and phonecalls
When Jesus pleaded guilty at his court appearance
The magistrate decried him with gleeful vehemence
"Since you seem to show no sign of remorse
The maximum sentence is my only recourse"

In a suit on the seventh floor
Satan preaches to the board
Keeping the prophets lining up
It's always useful to moralise from airconditioned paradise
The apple is never large enough
In a suit on the seventh floor
Satan preaches to the board
Keeping the profits lining up
It's always useful to moralise from airconditioned paradise
The apple is never large enough