You say you found Jesus the Christ!
He's the only one
You say you've found Buddha
Sitting in the sun
You say you found Mohammad
Facing to the East
You say you found Krishna
Dancing in the streets

Well there's something missing in this God Almighty stew 
And it's your mother (your mother, don't forget your mother, la)
You got to serve yourself
nobody gonna do for you
You gotta serve yourself
nobody gonna do for you
Well you may believe in devils and you may believe in laws
But if you don't go out and serve yourself, la, ain't no room service here

It's still the same old story
bloody Holy War
I fight for love and glory
Ain't gonna study war no more
I fight for God and country
We're gonna set you free
Or put you back in the Stone Age
If you won't be like me - you get it?

You got to serve yourself
Ain't nobody gonna do for you
You got to serve yourself
Ain't nobody gonna do for you
Yeah you may believe in devils and you may believe in laws but Christ, you're gonna have to serve yourself and that's all there is to it.
So get right back here it's in the bloody fridge. God, when I was a kid.
Didn't have stuff like this, TV [bad word] dinners and all that [bad word] 
You [bad word] kids are all the [bad word] same! Want a [bad word] car now...
Lucky to have a pair of shoes!

You tell me you found Jesus the Christ!
Well that's great and he's the only one
You say you just found Buddha?
and he's sitting on his [bad word] in the sun?
You say you found Mohammad?
Kneeling on a bloody carpet facing the East?
You say you found Krishna
With a bald head dancing in the street? ('Well Christ, la, you're going out your bleeding girth)

You got to serve yourself
Ain't nobody gonna do for you (that's right, la, you better get that straight
in your [bad word] head)
You gotta serve yourself (you know that, who else is gonna do it for you, it ain't me, kid, I tell you that)
Well, you may believe in Jesus, and you may believe in Marks
And you may believe in Marks and Spencer's and you maybe believe in bloody 
Woolworth
But there's something missing in this whole bloody stew
And it's your mother, your poor bloody mother (she what bore you in the
back bedroom, full of [bad word] and [bad word] and [bad word] midwives. God, you can't
forget that all too quick, you know. You should have been in the bloody
war, la, and you had known all about it. 
Well, I'll tell you something.)

It's still the same old story
Holy bloody War, you know, with the Pope and all that stuff
I fight for love and glory
Ain't gonna study no war, more war
I fight for God and country, the Queen and all that
We're gonna set you free. yeah? all them "nig-nogs"? sure...
Bomb you back into the [bad word] Stone Age
If you won't be like me, you know, get down on your knees and pray

Well there's something missing in this God Almighty stew
And it's your [bad word] mother you dirty little git, now
get in there and wash yer ears!