from our parents i got a heart that beats but doesn't feel a thing;
they left the other half with you another world away.
i cast myself out into stormy seas pursuing every trace of you and if to find you i must drown then drown and die i will.
i ripped jesus from the holy cross so instead i could pray to you and make my body in your image, a surface level shrine to you;
she who could not live so that i could; who didn't exist so that i could
and when the parish sees my handiwork they recoil in contempt of me, but my mission transcends them and i need you.
though ostensibly i will fail can you take me with you?
i need to see for myself the shade of grass beneath your footsteps;
she who could not live so that i could; who didn't exist so that i could
[a brief nod to the boy who replaced you,
but he died when his heart got broken by they who i must not speak of lest their name be the password to some pandora's box lid;
and three cheers to whatever his name was, he had no heart but i saw his sadness for he knew and it pained him-that last picture;
that mournful acceptance in his eyesof being consigned to the void]