It has come, it has passed
It's the story of one reverend
A reverend father
Father so pious
So we thought
Naive we were
It may have been
Naive we were
Not until now
For now we know what they all do
Let's not go there for you all know
But all in all it's still a story of one reverend
A reverend father, and
Time has come, and time has passed
When then as kids ball race was fun
But in those days we find solace
With our manmade kites
We dreamt of the future
When we all will
To the future fly
Skies so blue, but here we are
In Bernard's land
Maybe it was his hands we shook
Maybe it was our hands unwashed
Maybe it was our childish chastity
Maybe it was our manmade kites
For we believed
When we touched this,
Bernard's hands, and not wash them
To heaven we'll go
For we thought
We had touched "God"
And here's our heaven
In a land we thought
Was made of gold
In a land so blessed
But still cursed
We slapped his hands
While he drove pass
His white Peugeot, so very white
Like priestly robe which we thought
Was a great healer for we thought
A touch of his robe
Will set us free
I still remember
A man so pure
A man so nice
Father Bernard
