Infidel baby

Oh my heathen child

Baghdad’s still ten leagues away

I go on undefiled

Wrap yourself in frankincense

Wrap yourself in rags

In the crowded market streets

Out among the hags

I’d offer you just one gold fleece

I’d offer you my bread

Who’s been inside your aching bones

Who’s been inside your head

Infidel baby

Oh my little girl

Nothing I can do for you

Nothing in this world

A thousand angry men-at-arms

A hundred vulgar priests

A pair of dirty little hands

Arousing drowsy beasts

There’s a mad look in her mother’s face

There’s a whisper on the tongue

No peace in all of Christendom

Until this song is sung

Musk – The Church