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!