The priest sat in the airport bar 
He was wearing his father's tie 
And his eyes looked into my eyes so far 
Whenever the words ran dry 
Behind the lash and the circles blue 
He looked as only a priest can, thru 
And his eyes said me and his eyes said you 
And my eyes said let us try
He said, "You wouldn't like it here 
No, it's no place you should share 
The roof is ripped with hurricanes 
And the room is always bare 
I need the wind and I seek the cold" 
He reached past the wine for my hand to hold 
And he saw me young and he saw me old 
And he saw me sitting there
Then he took his contradictions out 
And he splashed them on my brow 
So which words was I then to doubt 
When choosing what to vow 
Should I choose them all-should I make them mine
The sermons the hymns and the valentines 
And he asked for truth and he asked for time 
And he asked for only now
Now the trials are trumpet scored 
Oh will we pass the test 
Or just as one loves more and more 
Will one love less and less 
Oh come let's run from this ring we're in 
Where the Christians clap and the Germans grin 
Saying let them lose, crying let them win 
Oh make them both confess
© July 31, 1968; Siquomb Publishing Corp (as "The Priest Song')
Comments:
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JuanM on :
the sounds in the song take into the past, early 1900s, I do not know why.
SteveC on :
Once when I found myself in a love that was deep, and mutual, and unfulfillable, and I had run out of words of my own, I called the one with whom I was tragically entangled, and sang these words to her answering machine in my unmelodic and untrained voice. [ed.]