Here comes the Maven, he's coming around
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He's such a connoisseur, he's such an autograph hound, yeah
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He's got 60 yes-men and they tend to agree
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There's a long black book without any eyes
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He's got my number but he's got your size, yeah
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And if you measure up then a sure trick'll be wise
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Just turn the light off when you go (he hates the dark)
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Just tell the jury all you know (was just a lark)
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We'll send a sign to you over the sea
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There goes the Maven, sowing his seed
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One for the rock, one for the hand that feeds, yeah
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He reaps the harvest with his sleight of hand
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Just say the magic word and he's at your side
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Beware his tender touch, his plans are chilly and wide, yeah
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Sleeps through the winter in a white quiet land
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Here is the Maven, draining the cup
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He takes your arm and then he eats you up, yeah
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There is a surfeit of everything you crave
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Here is the Maven, signing the check
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He bought us dinner so what the fucking heck, yeah
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There is a surplus of everything you save
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The Maven
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| The Church |
