|
He looked beneath his shirt today
|
|
There was a wound in his flesh so deep and wide
|
|
From the wound a lovely flower grew
|
|
From somewhere deep inside
|
|
He turned around to face his mother
|
|
To show her the wound in his breast that burned like a brand
|
|
But the sword that cut him open
|
|
Was the sword in his mother's hand
|
|
Every day another miracle
|
|
Only death will tear us apart
|
|
To sacrifice a life for yours
|
|
I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
The blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
Though the sword was his protection
|
|
The wound itself would give him power
|
|
The power to remake himself
|
|
At the time of his darkest hour
|
|
She said the wound would give him courage and pain
|
|
The kind of pain that you can't hide
|
|
From the wound a lovely flower grew
|
|
From somewhere deep inside
|
|
Every day another miracle
|
|
Only death will keep us apart
|
|
To sacrifice a life for yours
|
|
I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
The blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
Birds on the roof of my mother's house
|
|
I've no stones that chase them away
|
|
Birds on the roof of my mother's house
|
|
Will sit on my roof someday
|
|
They fly at the window, they fly at the door
|
|
Where does she get the strength to fight them anymore
|
|
She counts all her children as a shield against the rain
|
|
Lifts her eyes to the sky like a flower to the rain
|
|
Every day another miracle
|
|
Only death will keep us apart
|
|
To sacrifice a life for yours
|
|
I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
The blood of the Lazarus heart
|
|
|
-----------------
|
The Lazarus Heart
|
| Sting |
