Coyne Painted grottos all falling down Prayer books and hymnals all strewn around Father McCarthey cannot say his prayers Locked all the doors and taken away the chairs Chorus: And the cardinal still sits on his golden throne Weeping and praying out in the hot day sun Little white lamb of God trapped in the wires Burning a brand new flame, a brand new fire. Rome is empty, all the parishioners have gone Everyone's on the night life, they're out having fun Nobody's there, no nobody's home A little black monkey's on the Sits on the Papal throne Chorus Dominus vobiscum et cum spiritu Gloria Gloria Kyrie eleison Christi eleison kyrie eleison? Amen Nobody cares and why should they care I don't want to see it, no I don't want to share Yes I sing for free and nobody bothers me No I'm not a penitent, I'm blind but I can see Chorus Dominus vobiscum et cum spiritu Gloria gloria Kyrie eleison, Christi eleison Kyrie eleison Christie eleison ad nauseum? Amen And the cardinal still sits on his golden throne Weeping and moaning out in the hot day sun Little white lamb of God trapped in the wires Burning a brand new flame, a brand new fire