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