I think you're going to freak out Now there's no one to let you know What's this "holly" shit about Are there places you still need to go? Is this confusion of feelings what let you wonder how You look at the sky and cant' see it What your faith is about? well, the pope is dead Christianity Do you have other visions but this All the loyalty To the God the dead pope couldn't see Come out, the crowd is lovely waiting you And the white cadaver's stinking like poo The carrion hungry birds surround it I'm imagining what has passed through the dead pope's head No complaining, who will write his name in the sand?