Oh the tears that you weep

for the poor tortured souls

who fall at your feet

with their love begging bowls

all the clerks and the tailors

the sharks and the sailors

all good at their trades

but they'll always be failures



Alms for the poor

for the wretched disciples

and the love that they swore

with their hearts on the bible

beseeching the honour

to sit at your table

and feast on your holiness

as long as they're able



Love needs its martyrs

needs its sacrifices

they live for your beauty

and pay for their vices

love will be the death of

my lonely soul brothers

but their spirit shall live on in

the hearts of all lovers



You're holding court

with your lips and your smile

your body's a halo

their minds are on trial

sure as adam is eve

sure as jonah turned whaler

they're crooked love thieves

and you are their jailor



Love needs its martyrs

needs its sacrifices

they live for your beauty

and pay for their vices

love will be the death of

my lonely soul brothers

but their spirit shall live on in

the hearts of all lovers