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