It started with the moon that turned an inexpensive room into St. Peter's There's a parabolic story but it's boring and it ends how you'd expect.
Forever dressing down I'm like a stranger hanging round outside the kingdom hall I'd've carried your wedding shawl you could've said I was a school friend
And you drag your holy horse cart in the sky when I wake up They say it's just the sun But I know that face
Excavating down you'd find the drowning and the drowned sponsored links(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});and then there's a space You could walk to our memorial but it's pouring and it ends how you'd expect. I'd dig your dresses out and hang 'em round about the house and turn the lights down low now you're everywhere I go looking faintly disappointed
And you drag your holy horse cart in the sky when I wake up They say it's just the sun But I know that face
The devil's tricks just seem to sit so light on you They'd never get the marionette that's tied on you
In the parliamentary houses there'll be talk of what this is with inexpert witnesses and evidence against us But I'll take my pound of substance from those insubstantial men whatever their arguments I'll prove your innocence
Drag your holy horse cart in the sky when I wake up Oh yeah Testify allegiance with more punctured wounds than Jesus Oh yeah
Every statue's weeping honey and it makes my sight go funny 'cause I'm over-sympathetic and I can't control myself Leave that painful memory in the Garden of Gethsemane Oh yeah, oh yeah