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Over My Head
por
Andrew Peterson
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She was a fine theologian who pa**ed for a pope And she never ever was able to say That she wanted no more of the bishops and the boards What she needed was a good man for a day So she wept in her chambers and burned like a flame For a man by the name of Sir "next dope who came in the room" She said "I'm in over my, over my, over my head If they knew I was nothing but gold-plated lead They'd stone me, dethrone me and leave me for dead I'm in over my, over my head" Well the bishop from Thames had a bloody good name And was a good looking devil to boot So when he showed up that evening for the annual meeting With the pope that he thought that he knew Understandably stunned that the pope was a nun The bishop initially started to run But their meetings were frequent and secretly done And she told him that a baby would come He said "I'm in over my, over my, over my head If they knew I was nothing but gold-plated lead They'd stone me, dethrone me and leave me for dead I'm in over my, over my head I'm in over my, over my head" Well I live in Nashvegas and I sing and I play And everybody thinks that I write my own There's a fellow named Guido who lives in Encino Who wrote every song that I know Well, he sends MP3s for a nominal fee And I sing 'em, and play 'em, and tell 'em it's me I'm in over my, over my, over my head If they knew I was nothing but gold-plated lead They'd stone me, disown me and leave me for dead I'm in over my, over my head I'm in over my, over my head
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