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 Rate Pieta
Artist : Wire
Song : Pieta
Doubting Thomas parks his car in his Sunday best
Taps his wallet, straightens tie, lights a
cigarette Pilgrim's progress, no journey's end
Which way Michael? Through the door he scans the
bar, then a space appears His drink is poured,
for he is numb, the service it starts here He
sees it in the barmaid's face, a winning smile's
caress A million eyes in public stalk, the queue
up to confess Lost causes, loves, hates and
shames, old battles fought and won Bad debts, bad
tips, the graveyard song, the dreamers talk in
tongues Haloes swarm, the air is thin, thick
smoke in tights of blue Elvis has a wooden heart,
eyes dart across the room Empty heads and stomachs
full, the ashtrays overflow Drinks are raised and
voices praise good deeds of long ago He drains
his glass and makes a sign, the Virgin Queen
appears The Prince King needs a tender touch, his
sacred heart knows no fear Upon a cloud on optic
shrine, he can't control his tears On his knees,
hands held in prayer, a practice lapsed for years
The altar clears, the light grows dim, the sanctus
bell is rung A miracle at closing time, our lady
holds her son The faithful come to celebrate the
vision Thomas saw A rail now stands around the
spot where Thomas kissed the floor Amen
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