And who will write love songs for you
When I am lowered at last
And your body is a little highway shrine
That all my priests will pass?
That all my priests have passed
My priests they will put flowers there
They will kneel before the glass
But they'll wear away your little window, love
They will trample on the grass
They will trample on the grass
The simple life of heroes
The twisted life of saints
They just confuse the sunny calendar
With thеir red and golden paints
With their rеd and golden paints
And all of you have seen the dance
That God has kept from me
But he has seen me watching you
When all your minds were free
When all your minds were free
And who will write love songs for you
When I am lowered at last
And your body is a little highway shrine
That all my priests have passed?
That all my priests have passed
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
