Ive the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Ive the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest


Theres a moon over bourbon street tonight
I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight
Ive no choice but to follow that call
The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all
I pray everyday to be strong
For I know what I do must be wrong
Oh youll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While theres a moon over bourbon street

It was many years ago that I became what I am
I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb
Now I can only show my face at noon
And youll only see me walking by the light of the moon
The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
Ive the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Oh youll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While theres a moon over bourbon street

She walks everyday through the streets of new orleans
Shes innocent and young from a family of means
I have stood many times outside her window at night
To struggle with my instinct in the pale moon light
How could I be this way when I pray to God above
I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love
Oh youll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While theres a moon over bourbon street

~sting
(moon over buorbon street)