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?
