Angela Thwaite - An Audience With The Pope lyrics

Sweet Jesus, I'm on fire She has the sweetest, darkest side And when it comes into her eyes I know iron and steel couldn't hold me Good God, I'm easily bruised So often a moth to her flame And the things that she's asked me to do Will see a city of saints forgetting his name [Chorus] I have an audience with the Pope And I'm saving the world at eight But if she says she needs me She says she needs me everybody's gonna have to wait (Where could she be?) Was that a minute or an hour? (Where could she be?) She turns the hours into days k** the phone, cover the cage And wait for the doorbell to ring (Where could she be?) No, she won't come running (Where could she be?) The world is turning at her pace k** the phone, cover the cage And wait for the doorbell to ring [Chorus]x3