Hey Billy, how I turn to you;
how often do you hear the demons howl?
That spirit of the Holy Father,
see the Head, It’s bowed.
 
Much as I’d reject the claim,
the 31 and 4, what I hear’s the same.
I have you on the line, so Billy tell me;
 
how do you help the man
who’s lost a little bit of everything?
Tell me
how to turn the face of God.
 
I see the Seraph shake its head,
the feathers fall, the hope is dead;
the choir sings a song, so Billy
help me.
 
Holy, holy, holy
and all the Earth is full of glory;
at least that’s what they call it nowadays.
 
When coal’s brought from the altar
to the lips of someone other;
it’s a wonder we expect grapes to sour.
 
Looking for shortcuts to the throne of god,
oh Billy, tell me;
 
how do you help the man
who’s lost a little bit of everything?
Tell me
how to turn the face of God.
 
I see the Seraph shake its head,
the feathers fall, the hope is dead;
the choir sings a song, so Billy
help me.
 
What is, what was, what is to come;
you’ve heard the Word before
when I’ve had none.
I don’t want him to leave me,
could you help me?

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