You were carrying your defects
Just like when you were a child
I was going down to Geneva
I saw you from a foreign window
They were giving you religion
In the palace of the Lord
To the palace of the Lord
I spied you from a foreign window
To the place you kept your books
I saw you from a foreign
From the loneliness of the crowd
In the palace of the Lord
In the palace of the Lord
Bearing down the sufferin' road
And if you get it right this time
And if you get it right this time
And you laid out on the green hills
To the palace of the Lord
Breaking bread and drinking wine
You were singing about Rimbaud
There's no need to explain
That the masters had instilled in you
In the palace of the Lord
I was giving you protection
You were singin' every prayer
When the lilacs were in bloom
You were carryin' your burden
Sleeping on a pallet on the floor
You don't have to come back again
When the kingdom had been found
In the palace of the Lord
In the palace of the Lord
You were reading on your sofa
And the sun shone through your window pane
You were carryin' your burden
You were trying to find your way back home
Since Lord Byron loved despair
