I Beliebe

The following should be sung, as a hymn. Below you'll find the melody for it.

You must be gay,

Sitting atop

Your pedestal of fame.

Consume your prey,

And drink your pop,

You angel without shame.

Your records sell

To little folk.

You play them like a game.

But what's that smell?

Oh no! It's smoke.

But can you see a flame?

Well I cannot,

So make no fuss.

Your boy will take the blame.

He'll lose his spot

Aboard your bus,

But you'll protect your name.

With all your swank,

You can achieve

Such popular acclaim.

And let's be frank,

We all believe

That you from Heaven came.

You disrespect

Your devotees,

Devoted all the same,

As they accept

Apologies,

Excuses that you claim.

So you will play,

And never drop,

From your pedestal'f fame.

Consume your prey,

And drink your pop,

You angel without shame.