The Waiting
Look at me
Golden bars of sunlight come sneaking through the shutters
Laying stripes on my back, like a zebra
Sweaty fingers turning pages, and clinging to the bed
Like it's a bride and I never want to leave her
Paul calls me a saint and the mattress shakes with laughter
And the sheets let out a chuckle while the pillow holds one in
I don't believe a word I read, but the man is so convincing
Says You're calling me a winner of a game I never win
But with everyword I read I feel Your eyes upon me
And I don't mind at all
I love the way You look at me, the way You steer Your eyes
To see the bride beneath the harlot's skin, the vitue underneath the sin
I love the way You look at me, when You lift the veil and You repeat Your vow
Get up for the shower, wash, and scrub and scour every part
As if a cleaner man could better bear the shame
Now, I move out into the sunlight, a frightened fool
There's a reason for my fright, for I'm a messenger who's forgetting why he came
For when You look at me, You see every drop of blood You spent
Like the color that comes creeping to my face
It is such sweet embarrassment to see the dowry that You paid for my cold embrace
But I'll never let you go because...