Father I must ask forgiveness It's my fault that Tony's packed in a car cover I've broken Monsieur Clavier's regulations You know I can’t take care of him
I plead to you. Help, Father help me I'm standing in boots of concrete, Father help me I said, Russian roulette's not a good idea But he felt fine so he forced me along
I watched him spin the cylinder he put the barrel between his teeth I’ll pray for you my son
Cos by him you've not yet been judged Cos nobody can say no to the amount Monsieur Clavier gave And only Father martin knows what's behind a hallelujah Tony has a genuine double
Track him down, set up a contract, give him money You may take a handful out of our collection You may become as most people, or you may become a priest But never return cos your days here are numbered