Lyrics

He's a genius without a map
It still amazes me the things that fall into his lap
Like a tree without the sap
He stands erect but you can break his limbs with just one snap
He has a charming rap
the line goes 'round the block for miles to listen to this chap
Like a keg of beer on tap,
His message kicked some years ago but still they buy his crap

Chorus:
He's the mass production prophet of the pulpit of
our times
Take the tax deduction off it and incorporate his crimes
He's the MEDIA MESSIAH he's the image that we chase
He should be a pariah but he gets the palace place

They'd follow him to war
specially if they didn't know just what the fighting's for
He'll talk about the poor
and paint a picture like you're on a homeless
virtual tour
He speaks with such allure
He clothes you and he feeds you at his one-stop
warehouse store
He's rotten to the core
But still the masses take his apple and consume
the gore

(repeat chorus,...guitar lead..repeat chorus)