Those Unbelievable Believers:
The Blessed Sounds of
Incredible Christian Song Demos
#17 — Twangy the Twanger, "God, Give the Devil the Measles" (3:34)
If you believed that there existed a super-powerful agent of evil, do you think you could maybe find better things to do than go around waving a big red flag right under his big, red, most likely evil, nose? Some religious people, many of them singers and preachers, seem to think ridiculing Satan is a good use of their time. "God, Give the Devil the Measles," like "Satan, You Lost, Lost, Lost,", is another of those songs where some wise-ass xtian, like Twangy the Twanger here, makes like a bratty little brother hiding behind the davenport with a peashooter, plinking at his sister's giant red evil prom date, who, I mean, what's he gonna do? He loses face if he wallops the kid, and loses face if he lets the kid keep getting saliva flecks all over his nice pointy tail, when all he's trying to do is get some tail that belongs to somebody else for a change, preferably big sister. It isn't easy being red.
But it is easy being brave when your enemy is invisible, easier still when you have as exactly as much evidence that your invisible enemy exists as you had of the existence of all those invisible enemies you fought during all those daylight hours you wasted fiddling around with Dungeons & Dragons. Whereas if there were a real Prince of Darkness and he were to appear to any of these singers, they would shit their pants before the first chorus, whether the love offering cash had already been collected or not.
Nevertheless, it's not uncommon for Awkward Xtian Soldiers to engage in this sort of activity, which they refer to as "spiritual warfare." In contrast to the more familiar sort of warfare, however, in spiritual warfare no one loses limbs or or dies or even craps his pants. In fact, as far as can be determined, in spiritual war, not even your soul craps its pants. It's more of an attempt to pump one's street cred (that's on the streets of gold, son) by means of nose-thumbing bravado, like flipping off a traffic camera as you pass by it—except that the traffic camera has a demonstrable existence.
Even so, just in case the New Agers are right in saying that we all really do create our own reality, if you really believe The Evil One is prowling around after your ass, I'd suggest popping your head back down into that foxhole, there, Twangy, where you can soil yourself in safety.
Now, the devil is a sly fellow
He's always worryin' me
He's caused me all kinda problems
I could name them from A to Z
He's been on trail like a weasel
Tryin' to cause injury
So hear my prayer, dear Jesus
Give the devil the measles for me
[Chorus:]
God, give the devil the measles
For all those tricks on me
Let him jump and itch
Scratch and twitch
All through eternity
Don't give him any free time
From this mighty disease
Lord, give the devil the measles
And tell him you did it for me
Now, I'll explain my prayer, friend
Before you think bad of me
Well, the worst thing I had
Which was real bad
Was the German Red Measles, you see
I had an awful experience
And how I hated it so
So when I pray
This is what I say
And I mean it with all of my soul
[Chorus]
Now, I'll take a survey right now, friend
See the results, and how
If you understand the jest [sic] of my plan
I ask you to vote right now
All for giving the devil
The Measles Majority Plan
Well, show it right now
With a "Hallelujah, wow!"
And lift up both of your hands
[Chorus]
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