Is it love that I want
Or just some compassion?
This melancholic runt
wears funeral fashion

It keeps me in good
with certain people
Not how a man should
behave says the steeple

Say the mild and meek,
You can't find your own answer
The words that they speak
an ignorant cancer

I worship my God
with laughter and prayer
barefoot upon sod
and wind in my hair

I swore off of ***
Of meat and strong drink
Still, Delilah's dark hex
wrote my name in blood ink

I found secrets in skin
and prayers in her giggle
and solemn chagrin
while she still wriggle

She took all my prayers
and tore them apart
shortened my hairs
and tore out my heart

My Oath was restored
in Madness and fever
Truth is my sword
sharper than cleaver

My love will flow free
despite my disgrace
The way I'll be
you'll find joy on my face

I can't have true love
won't be, won't happen
Both the sky up above
and wind speak compassion