When amazing’s what you’re after
But it’s always out of reach
I’ll make amazing second-nature;
It will be a small feat.
When hope to you is citrus fruit
Growing on Spanish trees
I’ll claim for you that rugged hue,
And hope for you shall ripen with ease.
The gods you choose are yours to pick,
Don’t stay the church out of respect
To childhood, fidelity or candle wick
When there are gods abroad with love to spend.
Come, choose a better God;
Take me, my love, for protection.
Come guidance, come now, come good,
And I’ll take from you sacred direction.
Let me live between your thighs
Like a hermit struck blind with sense.
Only innocence, love, behind my eyes.
Behind my eyes, my love, only innocence.