Make a martyr of ME,
Not that long limbed, ivory skinned,
Cat called christ,
Who spoke the finest jive,
Whose body turned to ice,
Hanging from that cross,
For the souls of the lost,
Down the wrong alley of morality,
Did that COOL cat ponder his mortality?
No that jiving, hippy hipster, Pounded a tambourine,
Swirled in the living, If you dig what I mean,
Turning water into wine, Resurrecting the dead unseen,
That was his living,
That was his moment,
That was his scene.
What a cool cat,
Long hair, sandles, on a goldent throne he sat,
Yeah they martyred him,
For what he had been,
A jiving young hipster livin in a squares den.