The Lord is my vending machine,
I shall not be in want,
He makes me to lie down on king size beds,
He leads me beside new swimming pools,
He restores my wallet.
He guides me on paths of self-righteousness,
For my name's sake.

Even though I walk,
Through the ghetto of Silicon Valley,
I will feel no discomfort.
For you are with me,
In my new Ferrari and mace spray,
They comfort me.

You prepare a table before me,
In the presence of my Outback Steakhouse.
You anoint my bread with garlic,
My champagne overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me,
All the days of my life,
and I dwell in my three story house,
Until I get a bigger one.