Tekster: Elbow. An Audience With The Pope.
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
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
Elbow
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