|
This is a beautiful song written by Peter Sarstedt, called "Where do you go to my lovely".
I often wish that I was just writing comedy and making people laugh, like I used to, instead of delving into the murky worlds of paedophiles, so that justice might be served and these crimes are never repeated.
This is for those men who somehow deny that they have done any wrong, especially those that I had the misfortune to encounter in my childhood and who I now find I am still battling against.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-9L3iRYYiM
You talk like a Baptist Preacher
And you dance like Fred Astaire
Your life is supported by donations
And for the children you don’t really care, yes you there.
You live in your missionary base
In a house kept clean and well
You pay the houseboy peanuts
Write home you‘re living in hell, yes you do.
You go to missionary parties
And talk about the truth that others do seek
And the young men who move in your circles
They hang on every word you speak, yes they do.
But where do you go to dear missionary
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.
I've seen all your qualifications
Awarded for nothing at all
And the young lives you have ruined
The figures do really appall, yes they do.
When you go on your well earned furlough
To drum up more financial support
With your carefully designed slide presentation
You are the hero man, who never borrows or begs.
And when the snow falls you're found back on the field
With the others of the jet-set
And you talk the missionary talk
But your actions some will never forget, no they won't.
But where do you go to dear missionary
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.
MKs in between 5 and 18
A very impressionable age
Bodies and minds in your hands
But they suffer you ego and rage, yes they do, yes they do.
Your name is heard in high places
You know your God personally
He speaks to you not just at Christmas
But those Mks will never be free, they don’t laugh ha-ha-ha
They say that woman you married
To speak out does not dare
But does she realize where you go to
And I wonder if she does really care, or give a damn
But where do you go to dear missionary
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.
I remember what you and your friends did
The lives you left in rags
Your desire for power and ambition
To shake up those lowly brown tags, saw with my eye
So look into my face missionary
And remember the abuse you covered
Then go and forget me forever
But maybe you’ll come to bear
the guilt, deep inside, yes you
I know where you go to Dear Missionary
When you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
`Cause I looked inside your head.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
