They're taking pictures of the man from God   I hope his cassock's clean   The burden of being our holy fellas   Your halo'd better gleam, better gleam      What of all those wayward priests?   The ones who like to drink   Do you suppose they'd swap their blood for wine   Like you swapped yours for ink, for ink      You wrote me, oh so many letters   And all of them seemed true   Promises look good on paper   Especially from you, from you      The weight of all those willing words   I carried all alone   You wouldn't put your pen to bed   When we hadn't found our own, our own      Your sentences rose high at night   And circled round my head   The circle's since been broken   Like the priest before me is breaking bread      I'm being asked to drink the blood of Christ   And soon I'll eat his flesh   I'm alone again before the altar   Shedding all my old regrets      The last of which I'll tell you now   As it flies down the sink   I never knew a part of you   You didn't set in ink, in ink      The letters that you left behind   No longer shall I read   Your blood's between the pages   And I can't stand to see you bleed      And I'll soon forget what was never there   Your words are ash and dust   All that's left is the song I've sung   The breath I've taken and the one I must      If you're born with a love for the wrote and the writ   People of letters your warning stands clear   Pay heed to your heart and not to your wit   Don't say in a letter what you can't in my ear