MAURITIA MAYER
Sancho sailor the poor little
Tailor, the clean Iacemaker Mauritia Mayer!
Sleep like a child call of the wild,
We will make you, make you more of man.
Speak out of spite with your Turkish
Delight another sleepless night, Mauritia Mayer!
Cling to your white vision there's
Still goodness to gain, Mauritia Mayer!
In the Saviour Of Lost Souls people are
Clinging with their hopeless stupidity...
And I fell to the ground but my heartbeat was sound
And the faces of children were spinning round and around.
Sex in history we believe in your vague humanism and your chastity.
I always thought that one day I wou|d be a man of destiny,
But like a phoney virgin I thought like a
Superman who lives without sanctity, Mauritia Mayer!
I never thought I'd hold the hand of a man who was lost in thought,
But I always seem to breathe upon the heads of the John Birch Reds...
So when you lose control and lock the door,
They always forget to look under the bed, Mauritia Mayer!
When we all lie down in a swown it's a pleasing vision with a frown.
Raise your thighs in fear of God, Mauritia Mayer.
I a
Iways thought that one day I would be a man of destiny,
But like a phoney virgin I thought like a
Superman who lives without sanctity, Mauritia Mayer!
Sancho Sailor loved the poor little tailor,
Loved the clean Iacemaker Mauritia Mayer,
And I often thought that the words that you
Taught were words of wisdom, honesty and faith.
So now go and be silent my clean little
Virgin I hope we made you, made you more of a man.
I never thought I'd hold the hand of a man who was lost in thought,
But I always seem to breathe upon the heads of the John Birch Reds...
Mauritia Mayer!
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