Hole For a Soul
Holy Shamoly, said the priest to the girl
As he wrapped his arms around her
And his guts became her world
She said I can't take anymore
No I can't take anymore
And she could taste the Christ
Breath the Church
Smell the Crucifixion
Of another fallen angel, hooked up on false religion

She's got a Hole for a soul
She's got a sad, sad tale to tell
She's got a Hole for a soul
Of being twisted in a living hell

Crikey Moses, he said with bottle in his hand
Fingers worm thin down to the bone
From working on the promised land
Fingers worn thin, tattered and torn from scratching
All the blood and sand
Said I can't take it anymore
No I can't take it anymore
He had a loving wife
Doting child
An Englishman's castle for his home
Every mile stood this broken man
And every two stood this broken man's dream

He's got a Hole for a soul
He's got a sad, sad tale to tell
He's got a Hole for a soul
Of being twisted in a living hell
 
 


Back to Formaldehyde 1