Love was a promise made of In a frozen copse of trees A bone cold and older than our bodies Slowly in the sea Every morning there were planes The shiny blades of pagan angels in our father's sky Every evening I would watch her hold the pillow against her hollows, her unholy child I was still a beggar shaking out my coat Among the angry cemetery leaves When they caught the beneath the borrowed car Righteous, drunk, and fumbling for the royal keys
Love was our father's flag and sewn like a shank In a cake our leather boots A beautiful feather floating down To where the birds had shit our empty chapel pews Every morning found one more machine To mock our ever waning patience at the well Every evening she'd descend the mountain stealing And singing something good where all their horses fell Like a snake within the wilted garden wall I'd hint to every possibility While with his gun, the pagan angel to say \"My love is one made to break every bended knee\"