(I Was Drunk At The) Pulpit 创作者:
Palace
Palace

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调:C major
Verse 1
D
D

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I was drunk at the pulpit,
I knew it was wrong
And I left in mid- sermon tempted
by a bar- house song
The pews creaked and shifted as
they turned to watch me leave
And I pulled a little bottle from
Verse 2
the pocket in my sleeve
D
D

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The sunlight was stronger to my
church- dark widened eyes
Than the light which had blinded me
with Christ's own half- lies
Yes mid- Sunday morning,
my old playmates sat
Round a stumble stained table,
Christopher spat
And he kicked out a chair
and showed me to sit
Then they started back singing
in that shit- smelling pit
They were grinning and dribbling
with comforted heads
Their wives were in church
or at home and in beds
Well I sucked down a cupful
and God shone within
In a red earthen mask,
Verse 3
and I saw where I'd been was a palace of sin.
D
D

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Let them abstain on
unbucking high horses
Poor wooden structures which
merely eye courses
That these log heads run
just to find some respite
In the whiskey- induced
holy unending night
Yes I thought I saw new light,
the black one which dimmed
The bleach garments with which
mingled pee on stained rims
Oh the church songs they paled
next to this fiery chorus
Composed from a living
depth especially for us
Verse 4
D
D

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There were arms linked in sympathy,
gilded the glaring
Of these bloated companions,
who hid 'neath their swearing
Some need for another,
kin to brother lust,
Which coarse words and music,
was faith and less trust
Yes I saw a dependence,
an inherent weakness
Within walls which hid sunlight
and hindered all frankness
That floor there supported
what souls couldn't stand
On their own in their own eyes,
to hint they are men
Who are slave to their
vision but to that alone
Yes each of them cloistered
fear of being alone
Wherever folks gather, to imply a rule,
They are each one a sinner, each one a fool
For if I drink my whiskey, and if I sing a song
I have no breast companion,
a- trailing along
To imagine a sharing of
burdens I earned
To steal from the embers
i strove so to burn
God is one's corpus,
and Jesus one's blood
The world is within you, without is of mud...

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调音器E A D G B E
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