Gentle women nDon't you know God is a mannGentle mennDon't you know God is a womannAnd like any good poet, God lets the song write itselfnGod sits back, gentle peoplenWhoa, we must rely on ourselvesnnMy grandfather has his mind clenched shut like a fistnBut my fair sister has a brain open wide and one day she said thisnGentle people, even God knows some great books of liesnShe opened her eyes nAnd she saw angels or aliensnWhen great cities fall from the skynnWhat if for eighteen years I had raised nMy fair sister to lay amazednI baptized that girl in cherry Kool-Aid nShe grew up thinking God was a Dixie cupnDrinking was praying nAnd pyrex was SatannAnd children grew up drinking God from a Dixie cup