Sancho Sailor, the poor little tailor
The clean lacemaker
Mauritia Mayer!
Sleep like a child call of the wild, we will make you, make you more of man!
Speak out of spite with your Turkish delight, another sleepless night
Mauritia Mayer!
Cling to your white vision there's still goodness to gain
Mauritia Mayer!
In the Saviour Of Lost Souls people are clinging with their hopeless stupidity

And I fell to the ground but my heartbeat was sound
And the faces of children were spinning round and around!
Sex in history we believe in your vague humanism and your chastity!
I always thought that one day I would be a man of destiny
But like a phoney virgin I thought like a superman who lives without sanctity
Mauritia Mayer!
I never thought I'd hold the hand of a man who was lost in thought
But I always seem to breathe upon the heads of the John Birch Reds

So when you lose control and lock the door
They always forget to look under the bed
Mauritia Mayer!
When we all lie down in a swown it's a pleasing vision with a frown
Raise your thighs in fear of God

Mauritia Mayer!
I always thought that one day I would be a man of destiny
But like a phoney virgin I thought like a superman who lives without sanctity
Mauritia Mayer!
Sancho Sailor loved the poor little tailor, loved the clean lacemaker
Mauritia Mayer
And I often thought that the words that you taught
Were words of wisdom, honesty and Faith
So now go and be silent my clean little virgin
I hope we made you, made you more of a man
I never thought I'd hold the hand of a man who was lost in thought
But I always seem to breathe upon the heads of the John Birch Reds
Mauritia Mayer!