Will there be any bartenders up there in Heaven?
Will the pubs never close, will the glass never drain
No more D.T.'s and no shakes and no horrors
The very next morning you feel right as rain

'Cause God loves a [bad word]  the lowest of men

Like the dogs in the street and the pigs in the pen
But a [bad word] #39;s only trying to get free of his body
And soar like an eagle high up there in heaven
His shouts and his curses they are just hymns and praises
To kick-start his mind now and then

O God loves a [bad word] [bad word] raise up your glasses, Amen

Does God really care for your life in the suburbs?
dull little life full of dull little things
Bring up the babies to be just like Daddy
And maybe you'll be there when He gives out the wings

But God loves a [bad word]  although he's a fool
How he wets in his pants and he falls off his stool
And he can't hear the insults and whispers go by him
As he leans in the doorway and he sings Sally Racket
He can't feel the cold rain beat down on his body
And soak through his clothes to the skin

O God loves a [bad word] [bad word] raise up your glasses, Amen

Will there be any pen-pushers up there in Heaven?
Does clerking and wage-slaving win you God's love
I pity you worms with your semis and pensions
If you think that'll get you to the kingdom above

But God loves a [bad word]  although he's a clown
You can't help but laugh as he gags and falls down
But he don't give a cuss for what people think of him
He screams at his demons alone in the darkness
He's staying alive for just one more pint bottle
Won't you throw him a few pennies, friend

God loves a [bad word]  for ever and ever, Amen