The hand reaches for the tonic
Of filthy fiery desire
Wanting just one more fill
Knowing that it kills
It has a mind of its own
The truth is quite well-known
But starved and staggering
It triggers the phone...
Perish the thought
Of sinning at all
Perish the thought
Of losing it all
Fight these thoughts
With thoughts of love (From above)
To emerge well-fought
We must perish the thought
The phone rings and stills the hand
Wondering who wills the man
Tiny voice saying pick it up
While the perishing thought is fought
The phone gets more urgent
But the ring gets more duller
Trying all ways to reach the mind
The Father looks away
Perish the thought
When it enters the head
Perish the thought
Before it is said
No more room
For thoughts like these
To have no room
We must perish the thought
Setting our minds
On things above
Helps our thoughts
Here down below
Let's leave it all
To His holy care
For this thing we want
Will leave us bare