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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Suicidal Tendencies
Performer
Mike Clark
Guitar
Mike Muir
Vocals
Dean Pleasants
Guitar
Brooks Wackerman
Drums
Josh Paul
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mike Muir
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Suicidal Tendencies
Producer
MARK DODSON
Producer
Chris Steinmetz
Additional Engineer
Brian Scheuble
Additional Engineer
Greg Goldman
Additional Engineer
Andy Udoff
Additional Engineer
Lyrics
Lights, camera
Silence on the set, tape rolling
Three-two-one, action
Welcome to the Church of Suicidal
We'll have a sermon and a wonderful recital
But before we go on, there's something I must mention
An important message I must bring to your attention
I was in meditation and prayer last night
I was awakened by a shining bright light
Overhead a glorious spirit
He gave me a message, and you all need to hear it
(Send me your money)
That's what he said, he said to
(Send me your money)
Now if you can only send a dollar or two
There ain't a hell of a lot I can promise to you
But if you want to see heaven's door
Make out a check for five hundred or more
(Send me your money)
Do you hear what I said?
(Send me your money)
Now give me some bass
Mm yeah, that's how we like it
Now let's have some silence, for all you sinners
Now give me more bass
Yeah, that was funky
Now take them on home, Brother Clark
Send me your money
Here comes another con hiding behind a collar
His only god is the almighty dollar
He ain't no prophet, he ain't no healer
He's just a two bit goddamn money stealer
(Send me your money) send it, you got to send it
Send me your money
You hear what I'm saying?
(Send me your money) you gotta send it
Send it, send me your money
Now how much you give is your own choice
But to me, it's the difference between a Porsche and a Rolls-Royce
I want you to make it hurt when you dig into your pocket
'Cause it makes me feel so good to watch my profits rocket
(Send me your money) now dig in deep, dig real deep into your pocket
I want you to make it hurt
(Send me your money) we'll take cash, we'll take checks
We'll take credit cards, we'll take jewelry
We'll take your momma's dentures if they got gold in them
So who's gonna be the next king of the fakers?
Who's gonna take the place of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker?
See, my momma, she didn't raise no fool
'Cause you can't put a price on a miracle
Amen
Writer(s): M.a. Muir
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