You wear your anger well and stand   For all the world to see   A heavy cloak and one gloved hand   And no humility      You stand inside the garden   And feast on black cherries   And swallow the manna from Heaven   And spit out the seeds      You spread your anger on sharp-edged knives   Cut my skin and make it bleed   Like Pilate in his self righteousness   You're a traitor and a thief      And choking on your unplanned words   Coughing up your lies   Tumbling from your mouth   A flurry of broken butterflies      Broken butterflies   They rest their wings snapped in two   On their way to certain death   Their colors gold an' blue      But the blood that flows I cannot hide   The blood that covers me   Nourishes the butterflies   And they are healed and are set free      I wish you had what Ruth possessed   But then I don't expect that of you   Grace and honor and faithfulness   And the love that you refuse      Will you ever learn to just forgive?   Will you open your beautiful eyes?   And bleed the way Christ did   And fix the broken butterflies