I am not a sinnernI fall asleep after dinnernThis table used to be my favorite treenA temper isn’t couragenYou eat too much and then purgenElectric eyes judge the elastic citynnWhere is my conviction?nWell, I was as convicted as a gospel singernnI’m still addicted, like a vampire slayernI just have no missionnThere’s an invisible church inside of menIt’s deep, dark and unitednnI don’t know why I’d hide itnBut I must have done some kind of good jobn‘Cause now I can’t even find it