text: Pour me a drink, Theresa, in one of those glasses you dust off
  And Ill watch the bones in your back like the stations of the cross
  Around your hair, the sun lifts a halo, at your lips a crown of thorns
  Whatever the deals going down, to this one Im sworn
  Ill work for your love, dear
  Ill work for your love
  What others may want for free
  Ill work for your love
  The dust of civilizations and loves sweet remains
  Slip off of your fingers and come drifting down like rain
  The pages of Revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue
  I watch you slip that comb through your hair and this, I promise you
  Ill work for your love, dear
  Ill work for your love
  What others may want for free
  Ill work for your love
  Well, tears, they fill the rosary, at your feet my temple of bones
  Here in this perdition, we go on and on
  Now I see your pieces crumbled, and our book of faiths been tossed
  And Im just down here searching for my own piece of the cross
  In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall
  I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall
  Ill work for your love, dear
  Ill work for your love
  What others may want for free
  Ill work for your love
  What others may want for free
  Ill work for your love
  What others may want for free
  Ill work for your love