Merchant

cello: Larry Corbett/violin: Bruce Dukov/viola:
Pamela Goldsmith/violin: Ralph Morrison (quartet
arranged and conducted by Paul Buckmaster)

To think of my task is chilling. To know I was
carefully building the mask I was wearing for two
years, swearing I'd tear it off. I've sat in the
dark explaining to myself that I'm straining too
hard for feelings I ought to find easily. Called
myself Jezebel. I don't believe.

Before I say that the vows we made weigh like a
stone in my heart. Family is family, don't let
this tear us apart.

You lie there, an innocent baby. I feel like the
thief who is raiding your home, entering and
breaking and taking in every room. I know your
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/bYTfeelings are tender and that inside you the embers
still glow. But I'm a shadow, I'm only a bed of
blackened coal. Call myself Jezebel for wanting to
leave.

I'm not saying I'm replacing love for some other
word to describe the sacred tie that bound me to
you. I'm just saying we've mistaken one for
thousands of words. And for that mistake, I've
caused you such pain that I damn that word. I've
no more ways to hide that I'm a desolate and
empty, hollow place inside.

I'm not saying I'm replacing love for some other
word to describe the sacred tie that bound me to
you. I'm not saying love's a plaything. No, it's a
powerful word, inspired by strong desire to bind
myself to you. How I wish that we never had tried
to be man and his wife, to weave our lives into a
blindfold over both our eyes.