Oh the tears that you weep   For the poor tortured souls   Who fall at your feet   With their love begging bowls   All the clerks and the tailors   The sharks and the sailors   All good at their trades   But they'll always be failures      Alms for the poor   For the wretched disciples   And the love that they swore   With their hearts on the bible   Beseeching the honour   To sit at your table   And feast on your holiness   As long as they're able      Love needs its martyrs   Needs its sacrifices   They live for your beauty   And pay for their vices   Love will be the death of   My lonely soul brothers   But their spirit shall live on in   The hearts of all lovers      You're holding court   With your lips and your smile   Your body's a halo   Their minds are on trial   Sure as Adam is Eve   Sure as Jonah turned whaler   They're crooked love thieves   And you are their jailor      Love needs its martyrs   Needs its sacrifices   They live for your beauty   And pay for their vices   Love will be the death of   My lonely soul brothers   But their spirit shall live on in   The hearts of all lovers