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Ooh, the lonely boys |
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In their towers of faith |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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Locked in their towers of faith |
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The prophet reclined on the Golan Heights |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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He said, this land is my land to the Shiites |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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And Jehova looked up from the Sea of Galilee beneath |
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He said, |
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"I see you, you thief!" |
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This land is my land |
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And this sand is my sand |
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And this band is my band |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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Lookin' over their shoulder |
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Checkin out every boulder in the park |
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Where the gates are closed from hate |
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After dark |
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And the Pope rolled up in his armored van |
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He fell on his knees and kissed the land |
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He said something that I did not understand |
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It was in polish |
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Then up stepped an aide |
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He said, I will translate |
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Here is what His Holiness said: |
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"I am the Chief Jesuit. |
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This land is Jesus' land. |
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And that is all, all that there is to it." |
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Hail Mary |
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Mother of God |
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And in New York City |
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The business man in his mohair suit |
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In the world trade center |
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Puffs on his cheroot |
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And he said, |
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"Well, I don't care who owns the desert sands. |
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My brief is with the hydrocarbons underneath." |
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And the sea of battle rages |
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Around the ancient tombs |
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And Mother Nature licks her wounds |
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And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith |
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Who are nervous in the park |
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When the gates are closed after dark |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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In their towers of faith |
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Oh, the lonely boys |
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Locked in their towers of faith |
