O, we promise pretty things and we pledge with diamond rings; we profess undying love.
But does that word hold any weight, when we reserve the right to break any vow that draws our blood?
Our word is so faint and feeble, broken by the slightest breeze or breath.
Our hearts are - they're so deceitful, sick and filled with lies that lead to death. We are cowards and thieves.
Will we never turn to grieve the damage done, never see, never quake with rage at what we have become?
Yeah we get down on one knee; o, we play at chivalry, but we do not count the cost.
We say, "On me you can depend," and "I will be there 'till the end," but we will not bear the cross.