Jan Rot
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The Service

Jan Rot


Another prayer to the holy Son: use Your power something has to be
done! Send my baby to the nearest telephone and let her tell me
she's in love to the bone... I am not a regular visitor of the
cathedral and my calendar shows only six days and a day to revive,
but now I'm in the church to pray for a wife 'cos my love for her
is more than I can bear.
Forgotten memories from Sunday-school among old ladies and the
village fool. I have no psalmbook it's a crazy view: me behind a
pillar on the hindmost pew but my love for her is more than I can
bear. Who will stop the reverend's mouth - so he whispers, so he
shouts - but what he's talking about doesn't really help me out,
doesn't really touch my soul, doesn't interest me at all. Why I
came here for is: my love for her is more than I can bear
The service is over, now I need a drink. At least the service gave
me time to think. I'll call my baby from the nearest telephone and
tell her honestly that I'm so alone 'cos my love for her is more
than I can bear.

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