Andrew Peterson

Over My Head

She was a fine theologian who passed for a pope

And she never ever was able to say

That she wanted no more of the bishops and the boards

What she needed was a good man for a day

So she wept in her chambers and burned like a flame

For a man by the name of sir 'next dope who came in the room'

She said, I'm in over my, over my, over my head

If they knew I was nothing but gold plated lead

They'd stone me, dethrone me and leave me for dead

I'm in over my, over my head

Well the bishop from Thames had a bloody good name

And was a good looking devil to boot

So when he showed up that evening for the annual meeting

With the pope that he thought that he knew

Understandably stunned that the pope was a nun

The bishop initially started to run

But their meetings were frequent and secretly done

And she told him that a baby would come

He said, I'm in over my, over my, over my head

If they knew I was nothing but gold plated lead

They'd stone me, dethrone me and leave me for dead

I'm in over my, over my head

Well I live in Nashvegas and I sing and I play

And everybody thinks that I write my own

There's a fellow named Guido who lives in Encino

Who wrote every song that I know

Well, he sends mp3s for a nominal fee

And I sing 'em, and play 'em, and tell 'em it's me

I'm in over my, over my, over my head

If they knew I was nothing but gold plated lead

They'd stone me, disown me and leave me for dead

I'm in over my, over my head