We go in empty
And come out full
There is plenty
When life seems cruel
We push our lives
From sale to sale
We're housewives
Waiting for our mail
This is the church
With a priest in every lane
This is the church
Which heals the lame
I cry at commercials
I cry at commercials
Our soul so heavy
The pockets light
We praise this heaven
With all our might
We stay home sad
But just on Sundays
We're happymad
Reborn on Mondays
This is the church
With a priest in every lane
This is the church
Which heals the lame
I cry at commercials
I cry at commercials
(Merci à Frédéric pour cettes paroles)