She makes me so unsure of myself
Standing there but never ever talking sense
Just a visitor you see
So much wanting to be seen
She'd open up the door and vaguely carry us away

It's the customary thing to say or do
To a disappointed proud man in his grief
And on Fridays she'd be there
But on Mondays not at all
Just casually appearing from the clock across the hall

Here it goes (la la la)
Here it goes (la la la)
I'm the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La la la

The Continent's just fallen in disgrace
William, William, William Rogers put it in its place
Blood and tears from old Japan
Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor
Singing, crying, singing tediously

Here it goes (la la la)
Here it goes (la la la)
I'm the bishop and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La la la

Efficiency, efficiency they say
Get to know the date and tell the time of day
As the crowds begin complaining
How the Beaujolais is raining
Down on darkened meetings on the Champs Elysee


Here it goes (la la la)
Here it goes (la la la)
I'm the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La la la


Lyrics submitted by Greyshoes, edited by Wouterkaas

Paris 1919 song meanings
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12 Comments

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  • +1
    General Comment

    the third verse and the choruses seem to hint at the idea of crusades/driving people out of their land.

    jtn191on September 08, 2008   Link

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