please Mr.glory
This body is the temple of sin,
where these doves in droves are eating my flesh
O this body is the temple of sin
even daily burning incenses never make the temple clean
In the morning I hold the shell of my heart
but it breaks and the horizon in the day spreads out
Please, please Mr. Glory
O do not remember the sins of my youth and my revolts
and instruct me your path
I no longer have the Dove
I’m dead ‘cause I’ve sinned
Even dairy burning incenses never make me clean
and the morning shell breaks and the horizon in the day spreads out