| Song | Poke at the Pope |
| Artist | Donovan |
| Album | Open Road |
| 作词 : Donovan | |
| Have you ever seen a picture of Pope Paul? | |
| Have you ever asked yourself this question, | |
| Would you trust this man with your soul now? | |
| Would you trust this man? ask yourself now | |
| His eyes are sunken and his cheeks are hollow | |
| While you dig the poor of the world they follow | |
| He hoarding up their gold in the Vatican | |
| Would you trust this man? ask yourself now | |
| A poke at the Pope, that's what we're havin' | |
| Ave Maria, Ave Maria... | |
| Do you remember when the floods hit Italy? | |
| How the things they treasured most were destroyed | |
| All the paintings and the worshipped images | |
| 'Cos they lost their faith in the real God | |
| He's goin' down and he's goin' down fast | |
| You really didn't think the ignorance could last | |
| All the little children are learning | |
| And the constellation is turning. | |
| A poke at the Pope, that's what we're havin' | |
| Mumbling by the tumbling tide | |
| The kind of America humbly cried | |
| Save my soul, save it soon! | |
| The king of America fell in swoon | |
| Oh yea, my honey, Oh yea my honey... |
| zuò cí : Donovan | |
| Have you ever seen a picture of Pope Paul? | |
| Have you ever asked yourself this question, | |
| Would you trust this man with your soul now? | |
| Would you trust this man? ask yourself now | |
| His eyes are sunken and his cheeks are hollow | |
| While you dig the poor of the world they follow | |
| He hoarding up their gold in the Vatican | |
| Would you trust this man? ask yourself now | |
| A poke at the Pope, that' s what we' re havin' | |
| Ave Maria, Ave Maria... | |
| Do you remember when the floods hit Italy? | |
| How the things they treasured most were destroyed | |
| All the paintings and the worshipped images | |
| ' Cos they lost their faith in the real God | |
| He' s goin' down and he' s goin' down fast | |
| You really didn' t think the ignorance could last | |
| All the little children are learning | |
| And the constellation is turning. | |
| A poke at the Pope, that' s what we' re havin' | |
| Mumbling by the tumbling tide | |
| The kind of America humbly cried | |
| Save my soul, save it soon! | |
| The king of America fell in swoon | |
| Oh yea, my honey, Oh yea my honey... |