Coyne
Painted grottos all falling down
Prayer books and hymnals all strewn around
Father McCarthey cannot say his prayers
Locked all the doors and taken away the chairs
Chorus: And the cardinal still sits on his golden throne
Weeping and praying out in the hot day sun
Little white lamb of God trapped in the wires
Burning a brand new flame, a brand new fire.
Rome is empty, all the parishioners have gone
Everyone’s on the night life, they’re out having fun
Nobody’s there, no nobody’s home
A little black monkey’s on the Sits on the Papal throne
Chorus
Dominus vobiscum et cum spiritu Gloria Gloria Kyrie eleison Christi eleison kyrie eleison?? Amen
Nobody cares and why should they care
I don’t want to see it, no I don’t want to share
Yes I sing for free and nobody bothers me
No I’m not a penitent, I’m blind but I can see
Chorus
Dominus vobiscum et cum spiritu Gloria gloria Kyrie eleison, Christi eleison Kyrie eleison Christie eleison ad nauseum?? Amen
And the cardinal still sits on his golden throne
Weeping and moaning out in the hot day sun
Little white lamb of God trapped in the wires
Burning a brand new flame, a brand new fire
