Beau - Cry for the Priest lyrics

With pine and panatela hanging heavy in the air, The orders come obliquely from the shadows of the chair; And to all those who complain that his justice is unfair He blinks his eyes And someone dies. But he's happy now, at least. He prays not for religion, but he cries for the priest. His sword, his sable spirit, they manoeuvre high above The night the servant is punishing the dove. And to all those who remain to soak up all his love, He looks so good As he drinks the blood That they offer at the feast. Then he prays, not for religion, but he cries for the priest. Hanging in between the abstainer and the drunk, From high upon the hill into the depths he has sunk. His cast and his Company have bundled up the trunk And quickly found Some higher ground 'Til the rain and the thunder have ceased. They pray not for religion but they cry for the priest. It's a bitter smoke that rises where only anger burns. No judgements are suspended, no matter who adjourns. And who will feign amazement when in triumph he returns, A mere device, A sacrifice To lay before the beast With a prayer, not for religion, but a cry for the priest.