If the Titanic was made to sink,
Then so was my heart,
For I made sure it was impenetrable.
Oh, what a wretched man I am!
Who will save me from this flesh?
Paul whispers in my ear,
Oh, don't worry my friend
You're in good company;
Poets before me have tried
to measure this love,
And if 40,000 brothers cannot
with all of their quantity of love
make up this sum,
Then how can my heart contain this mass?
It would only burst at the seams into
a million tender pieces.
So what then?
What good is a broken heart to You?
Could you even hear my heart from there?
And like a father assuring his son
to come home,
Oh my son, it's enough, it's enough.
So who am I to accept this grace
that just falls like rain?
Cause we all know I chose to lay
my head in this desert.
But like a fish out of water,
We only know then what it means
to be parched.
So if Christ is alive, the love,
and the groom,
Then take heed my friends,
For chivalry is not dead!
For I know no other lover who would
have met me here in this place.
So I awake and I rise from my bed
of complacency--
Oh, my God I've been sleeping
with a corpse!
Oh, and these bed sores they still
rest in my bones,
Oh, how I've made a beautiful dance
with this cadaver, but my audience
is appalled!
Oh, how strong these tendons;
How they desperately need to rip
from this ancient Adam.
So light up the sky, and
Set me aflame;
Burn this bone and tissue,
For I no longer want to be
entangled in this sinew
That hinders my reach towards You.