The Martyr — текст песни (cursive)

And so it`s begun
This is year one
The birth of a child in the form of a man
Wrapped in towel
Passed out on the floor
These drunken hours -- graces deflowered
Cast down by an angel
She used to kiss his weeping eyes
Depressed in her bosom
Tears roll off her nipple

Sweet baby, don`t cry...
Your tears are only alibis
To prove you still feel --
You only feel sorry for yourself
Well, get on that cross
That`s all you`re good for...

And thusly it ends
Depression seeps in on a lonely messiah
Now he drinks with the lepers
Losing a limb, his better half
A glass once half full
A head hung half-mast
He claims he`s the victim
Strangled by the nine-to-five
And a pattern of stillness
That haunted this still life

Your tears are only alibis
To prove you still feel
You only feel sorry for yourself
And that`s how you thrive
Your sorrow`s your goldmine
So write some sad song about me
Screaming your agonies, playing the saint

The Martyr...
The Martyr...
The Martyr...
The Martyr...
The Martyr...
Oh....