| Sweet Jesus I’m on fire |
| She has the sweetest, darkest eyes |
| And when it comes into her eyes |
| I know iron and steel couldn’t hold me But god I’m easy bruised |
| But so often a moth to her flame |
| And the things that she’s asked me to do |
| Would see a senior saint |
| forgetting his name |
| I have an audience with the pope |
| And I’m saving the world at 8 |
| But if she says she needs me, she says she needs me Everybody’s gonna have to wait |
| Where could she be? |
| Was that a minute or an hour? |
| Where could she be? |
| She turns the hours into days. |
| Kill me phone, cover the cage |
| And wait for the doorbell to ring |
| Where could she be? |
| No she won’t come running |
| Where could she be? |
| The world is turning at her pace. |
| Kill me phone, cover the cage |
| And wait for the doorbell to ring |
| I have an audience with the pope |
| And I’m saving the world at 8 |
| But if she says she needs me, she says she needs me Everybody’s gonna have to wait |