A monk with ahard-on And a lavender robe That scratches his thighs Through the hat that he strode As he follows a path Filled with every desire And mimics his footsteps And sets his prayers on fire.
Well I too have chosen That which left no choice To sing without loving, A solitary voice, To observe with passion Each careful denial: The protrusions which give my life meaning For a while.
Sometimes I see you in berries and weeds You`re brushing your teeth with liquorice seeds Standing too close, Pulling your clothes, Smiling at God And the meaning of life grows. No and I`ll never tell And I`ll never know What candles you light After the show And I`ll never tell, And I`ll never ask The meaning of life after mass
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