The Temple - The Afghan Whigs

Roll on up -- for my price is down

Come on in -- for the best in town

Take your pick of the finest wine

Lay your bets on this bird of mine

Name your price I got everything

Come and buy it’s all going fast

Borrow cash on the finest terms

Hurry now while stocks still last

(Jesus)

My temple should be a house of prayer

But you have made it a den of thieves

Get up, get out

My time

Is almost through

Little left to do After all

I’ve tried for three years

Seems like thirty

Seems like thirty

(Crowd)

See my eyes I can hardly see

See me stand I can hardly walk

I believe you can make me whole

See my tongue I can hardly talk

See my skin I’m a mass of blood

See my legs I can hardly stand

I believe you can make me well

See my purse I’m a poor, poor man

Will you touch, will you mend me Christ?

Won’t you touch, will you heal me Christ?

Will you kiss, you can heal me Christ

Won’t you kiss, won’t you pay me Christ?

(Jesus)

Oh, there’s too many of you, don’t push me Oh, there’s too little of me, don’t crowd me Heal yourselves!