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Some Christians prefer to serve their ministries

I like to serve Jesus hot off the rotisserie

It doesn't really matter that my soul is headed south

Cause Christ is on the fire with an apple in his mouth!

Maybe I'm satanic, as satanic as hell

But don't it make your mouth water, that roasting Christian smell?

When I get hungry and I feel the need to eat

Nothing soothes my palette quite like boneless Christian meat

The peasants are restless down at the mission

Hungry as hell, I've got a sneaking suspicion

That I know what they want, and it's no imposition

Boneless Christian!

Fed up with a diet of force-fed religion

With every problem, therein lies it's own solution

We could feed every Christian

To the hungry and the homeless

But before you do, you'd better

Make sure they're boneless!

And as I fired up the barbecue

I made a suggestion

You bring the chips

And I'll bring the Christian!

Boneless Christian!

Boneless Christian!

Boneless Christian!