Ellie Goulding

My lover's got humour
She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshipped her sooner

If the Heavens ever did speak
She is the last true mouthpiece

Every Sunday's getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week

'We were born sick,' you heard them say it
My church offers no absolutes

She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'
The only heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you
I was born sick, but I love it

Command me to be well
Amen. Amen. Amen

Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life
Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

If I'm a pagan of the good times
My lover's the sunlight

To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice

To drain the whole sea
Get something shiny

Something meaty for the main course

That's a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?

We've a lot of starving faithful
That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work
No masters or kings when the ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am human
Only then I am clean
Amen. Amen. Amen
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life