there's a lineup at the door
in these early evening hours
ghosts of wives and lovers
come to call me to account
it's no use to bar the portal
or wish they were not there
i gave them everything i had
which was not much at all
i was but a broken promise
long before we had ever met
and could never own the tears
beneath their masks of paint
today i see those drops of pain
seeping from such forlorn eyes
damp smears of black and red
trail down their chalk white faces
now by grace, i own those tears
along with these which i have shed
and pray to all the powers that be
they may wash our ledger clean
i am much more than a promise
standing here before you now
with sacred pledge and solemn vow
i hold your timeless spirit above all
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