by Daniel Galef

“A televangelist has asked his followers to donate money so he can buy a $54m private jet.”—The Independent

Jesus wants you to send me money—
Gospel truth, that’s what He said.
Sure, it sounds a little funny,
But you can’t take it with ya when you’re dead.

Pennies from Heaven ain’t nothin’ to Jesus,
And, baby, when He reigns, it pours.
Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s,
But render unto me what is yours.

The Lord ain’t a loan shark—He spoke in my dreams:
Yeshua-siree! You’ll rake it in, He said,
Not like Old Egypt, with their pyramid schemes
That left poor Pharaoh in the red.

He told me to tell you to honor your mother
He told me to tell you to kill your brother
He told me to tell you to turn your cheek
And he told me the Earth, it will go to the meek

But mostly he wants you to get out your wallets,
You saints and you sinners, innkeepers and harlots,
Gold-girdled seraphs ensconced in effulgence,
Flip open your checkbooks—indulge my indulgence.

If Jesus didn’t want you to give me your dough
He’d show us a sign, like a burning receipt.
Do you see a sign? Oh? What’s that? No?
Then sign! (And make sure those zeroes are neat.)

The Lord ain’t Santa or the Easter Bunny;
Jesus wants you to send me money.
Give me your loaves and your fishes, he said,
And I shall multiply my bread!

Pennies from Heaven ain’t nothin’ to Jesus,
And, baby, when He reigns, it pours.
Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s,
But render unto me what is yours.

Jesus wants you to send me money—
Gospel truth, that’s what He said.
Sure, it sounds a little funny,
But you can’t take it with ya when you’re dead.