There’s a row of houses Baptised by a Mediatrix Designated for the deaf But the water has no effect A door left open For a man who was smoking The light hit his forehead Another figure in the shade
Waving their hands like wands Shaping your words with their mouths Waving their hands like wands Shaping the words, shaping the words
There’s a Sunday social To stave off the silence The soldier and the shell Straining for the church’s bell Twenty past six There’s a mass for the youths And who doesn’t need the solace For a whispered strike
Waving their hands like wands Shaping the words with their mouths They were waving their hands like wands Shaping the words, shaping the words
Our lady of Lourdes Your lips distract me
Waving their hands like wands Shaping the words with their mouths Waving their hands like wands
Your lips distract me Your lips distract me Your lips distract me