St. peter
Ina wroldsenLies a little st. Peter
In a hospital bed
Burning up
With a cloth to his head
He is ridden by fever
And I can't even tell
Whether the demons have won
And his mother is there with his brother tied to her back
Praying as hard as she can to a God in a land that I think he forgot
In the middle of hell
Where death by mosquito
Is as everyday as my coffee or your cigarette
And she says God bless me
She says God bless me
And I shake my head
Cause I can't see God in this hospital bed
She says God bless me
She says God bless me
And I look away
But as she lets go of my hand for the first time in this place
I pray
Amen
Amen
I got plenty to give
But there's nothing to offer
And the little I brought
Comes far too late
But I urge him to leave
With a bottle of water
He is 7 years old
Sleeping outside pearly gates
And his mother looks at me with eyes I will never let go
They are angry and sad beyond measure and mad with a child-bearing love that I know
In the middle of hell
We just sit with each other
On a hospital bed
Begging for death to go home
And she says God bless me
She says God bless me
And I shake my head
Cause I can't see God in this hospital bed
She says God bless me
She says God bless me
And I look away
But as she lets go of my hand for the first time in this place
I pray
Amen
Amen
In the middle of hell
Lies a little st. Peter
In a hospital bed
Burning up