[Verse I] Lord, I lit You beneath Your likeness bone-white wax beneath bloodless wounds, one black wick worrying the light while winter worried at the windows. I learned the age of buried things: read rock, read rot, read what remains; dead suns still stain the evening long after death has claimed their names. [Chorus] Wax for the body, wick for the bone, fire for the Father who will not come home. Drip, little martyr, white onto stone what light has anointed, the light shall unmake. [Verse II] Salt seas suck at sleeping shores, summer bares its blistered teeth; forests flower black with fire while heaven keeps its perfect blue. Still the steeples split the sky, still bells beat bronze above the graves, still mothers mouth Your name at night and silence takes the shape of You. [Chorus] Wax for the body, wick for the bone, fire for the Father who will not come home. Drip, little martyr, white onto stone what light has anointed, the light shall unmake. [Bridge] I came to You for light. Through bone, through blood, through burning earth it brought me back to this. [Final Chorus] Wax for the body, wick for the bone, fire for the Father who will not come home. Drip, little martyr, white onto stone what light has anointed, the light shall unmake. [Outro] The wick bends black. Still I kneel. Still I call Your name. Still this little traitor burns.
