Mother Mary, make me good. Give me money. Give me hope.
Where is the door? What should I do? Clouds have gathered under you.
Hey, Saint Michael, fallen from grace - you arch angel in disgrace.
Where is the light? What should I do? Clouds have gathered under you.
"Link hands, lie down, and tie rope. By the full moon and black skies, plant oak."
Listen Satan, I am at a loss. No one can give me a word with God.
Where is the power? Where is the truth?
"You know the answer, you know what to do: Link hands, lie down, and tie rope.
By the full moon and black skies, plant oak