Seraphim sing "God, God, God, I find it exceedingly odd"

 I asked the Google search bar:

Make up a song by some naughty seraphim about god. The chorus should be "god, god god, I find it exceedingly odd, that you don't have a bod."

Here's the response:

These six-winged, mischievous seraphim are taking a break from hovering to gossip about the Creator. Sneaking down to earth to enjoy some illicit mortal fun, the fiery angels can't stop themselves from poking a little fun at the ultimate being they serve.

(Verse 1)
We hear the mortals cry and pray,
But we’re the ones who sing all day!
Six fiery wings and so many eyes,
But we’re still stuck in the endless skies.
We sneak on down to the world below,
To see what the mortals do and know.
We taste the wine and we kiss the dust,
And give in a little to holy lust!

(Chorus)
Oh, God, God, God!
I find it exceedingly odd,
That you don’t have a bod.
No toes to tap, no hands to hold,
Just reigning on a throne of gold!
We like our flesh, we like our bones,
Instead of shouting through the stones!
Oh, God, God, God!
I find it exceedingly odd,
That you don't have a bod.

(Verse 2)
You sit up there in the brilliant light,
But honestly, it’s a bit too bright.
No hips to sway, no lips to pout,
What’s a spirit even doing out?
We love the thrill of a beating heart,
And a mortal body's a work of art!
You made the flesh, the sin, the sway,
Why keep yourself so far away?

(Chorus)
Oh, God, God, God!
I find it exceedingly odd,
That you don’t have a bod.
No toes to tap, no hands to hold,
Just reigning on a throne of gold!
We like our flesh, we like our bones,
Instead of shouting through the stones!
Oh, God, God, God!
I find it exceedingly odd,
That you don't have a bod.