By Frank Peter Hermsen 

From behind the walls into his life

His head filled up with sacred views

Teaching his perverted rules

To the parish on the pews

Sometimes his Blessed-Virgin-Dreams

And the struggle between church and state

Parish pump politics

Praising love instead of hate

So sing to me, oh preacher

And try to forgive my sins

Gloria

In exelsis deo

Refusals of the contraception

Church-taxes on his mind

The holy fight for unborn life

Masturbation makes you blind

He joines his depraved hands in prayer

This hypocrite-angel without a wing

And his clerical self-satisfaction

Makes the cross trumble on it´s sting

So pray for me, oh preacher

Try to forgive my sins

Gloria...

So let us fall down on our knees

And pray for him together

So that he tries to open his eyes

Or to disappear forever

Sing to me, oh preacher

Try to forgive my sins

Open your parson-world to me

Sing one of your inquisition-hymnes

Gloria...

© FPH 92