| The Virgin Mary on a chain
|
| Has hit me in the mouth again
|
| As we explore the carnal score
|
| Of sacred and profane
|
| Sulky boy won’t drink his milk
|
| So mother’s breast beneath the silk
|
| Remains untouched it’s way too much
|
| Reject all of that ilk
|
| I have to say it makes me wonder
|
| If you are holding me
|
| To the same blue flame that you’re under
|
| 'Cause I feel you scolding me
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| Your Virgin Mary’s in the way
|
| Hallucinate her face by day
|
| Obscure the view in front of you
|
| It’s me here made of clay
|
| You’re playing near that line so thin
|
| Austerity or just give in
|
| To endless appetite
|
| Embrace that white oblivion
|
| I have to say it makes me wonder
|
| If you are holding me
|
| To that cold blue flame that you’re under
|
| When you are holding me
|
| And why so high the expectation?
|
| Who could live up to this?
|
| And there’s no time now for explanation
|
| Cool as an angel’s kiss
|
| And I have to say it makes me wonder
|
| If you are holding me
|
| To that cold blue flame that you’re under
|
| When you are holding me
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| (I have to say)
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| (I have to say)
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| (I have to say)
|
| It makes me wonder
|
| (I have to say) |