The Priest

Milow – The Priest


Capo I

Am   : 0-1-2-2-0-x
G    : 3-0-0-0-2-3
C    : 0-1-0-2-3-x
Fmaj7: 0-1-2-3-3-x

[Strophe]
Am  G   C
I'm Peter Vanderhoelt,
Am  G C
I'm 6_8 years old
Am G       C  G C
My doubts and questions have increased
G       C  G      C
In forty- two years of being a priest

I'm at the end of my life
I'm not sure if I'm gonna survive
I  often don't know what to say
When I talk to Him, when I pray

In reply I receive
only silence, no relief
I've waited in vain for a little advice
From that great voice in the ethereal skies


Once I was a revolutionary
A devoted mercenary
A gifted student in God's hands
Now I'm old, and sick of his demands

I tried to be honest and good
Did my job the best I could
But I always stayed that average man
Right in the spot where I began

Am         G          C
During the grief with which I've dealt
Am              G       C
It's been three decades since I've felt
Am   G        C G   C
The certainty I so adored 
G   C         G     Fmaj7
About the existence         of the Lord

[Refrein]
Am   G     C
I've seen enough, that's why I know 
Am           G      C
God left this place a long long time ago


[Strophe]
I've given to my parish
Things I don't have myself, but cherish
Namely love and charity
Mostly purpose, that's what sets you free

So I'm where the metaphors
Are not comforting anymore
I think I'm almost done with my search
Got old so fast here in my church

It feels as I'm kept out
Of some sort of secret about
The meaning of life
Sometimes I can't fail to notice
These are mediocre times

[refrein x2]

[Strophe] (gedempt spelen)
Time has made me good at one thing
And horrible at everything else
The blessings of the world divine
Were always elsewhere, were never mine 

[Strophe]
OH I would like to hold someone
Briefly, maybe have some fun
But my body's oddly designed
So I'm not really the hugging kind

Not once has there been
Someone with a softer skin
Who reached out for me 
In the middle of the night
Across my old lumpy mattress 
When I turn on the light

I think I've been miscast
The time of saints is past
My faith is weak, last but not least 
After forty-two years of being a priest

The church is like a woman
A thing out of reach, like a vision
She glimmers in teh distance
To which I could never quite get
Now I am left here with my regret

[refrein x4]

[Strophe – Outro]
Am G  C
It's my portion, it's my cup
Am G  C
It's my portion, it's my cup



Peace.