Mother Theresa

Turn back the clock on summer solstice
Take down your pictures from my walls
Paris is burning in the spotlight
That radiates around us all

Hey Mona Lisa, it’s Mother Theresa
She wants to know if you can come to India and lend a hand
Sooner or later you’re meeting your maker
Better a crust of bread with love than pretty palaces of sand

Lower the curtains in Calcutta
Flower the gates in the UK
Shower the elegant with glory
Angels of mercy fade away

Hey Mona Lisa, it’s Mother Theresa
She needs a moment of your time if you can come up for a breath
They’re storming the tower, your wealth and your power
Better a doorman in the house of God than the throne of Elizabeth

When everybody else is gone, do you have someone you can call
Someone to talk to when you you’re down
This is the time, this is the place, all of your elegance and grace
Couldn’t hold on to your crown

lyrics by Jeff Smetana © 2001

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