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I'm seven years old |
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And my bow-tie's askew |
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Gonna get somebody of |
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Jesus Christ |
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In a brown velvet suit |
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All the girls are dressed like angels |
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How sweetly they sang |
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Oh, be not afraid |
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Of us delicate meringues |
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The trailing skirts of |
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GodThe trailing skirts of |
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GodThe trailing skirts of |
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GodHave passed on by |
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It's five years later |
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And I'm on my knees again |
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I am here to confirm |
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What my parents began |
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And I promise to abstain |
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From intoxicating liquor |
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But the flesh, it is weak |
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And my faith was never stronger |
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The trailing skirts of |
|
GodThe trailing skirts of |
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GodYeah, the trailing skirts of |
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GodHave passed on by |
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But oh, how |
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I cling on' |
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Cause it's been a rich seam of song |
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And though it's make-believe |
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Can I bring myself to leave? |
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This lie's been burning too long |
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Sometimes in my teens |
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Up in Kellyer's bedroom |
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Skipping on |
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Saturday evening mass |
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For some solvent abuse |
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And as the world spun around me |
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And I eased to the floor |
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Must remember to get that sermon |
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Keep the wolf from the door, yeah |
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The trailing skirts of |
|
GodThe trailing skirts of |
|
GodOh, trailing skirts of |
|
GodHave passed on by |
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Passed on by, passed on by |
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I've drifted far from you |
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In this bloodless coup |
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I've drifted far from you |
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I've drifted far from you |
|
In this bloodless coup |
|
I say good day and adieu |
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I've drifted far from you |
|
In this bloodless coup |
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I've drifted far from you |
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I've drifted far from you |
|
In this bloodless coup |
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I say good day and adieu |
