started with the man who turned an inexpensive room into st peters 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 and then they ?
you could’ve walked to a memorial but it’s pouring and it ends how you’d expect i’d dig your dresses out and hand 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 then 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 statues’ 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