Here's what I ended up with, Jim:
When I think of my love for you
It’s like staring right into the sun
Maybe we only really see
When the story’s finished up and done
Loving you is as bottomless
As a dark infinity
Martyrs die for love, my dear
But your love will be the death of me
My heart’s spitted on a stake
Burning with a clear, undying flame
Ashes rise up into the air
Spelling out the letters of your name
Oh you are my true lode star
You’re my only destiny
Martyrs die for love, my dear
But your love will be the death of me
Poor old Saint Bartholomew had his
Skin flayed off him while he lived
Anthony was stabbed so many times
That he started leaking like a sieve
Saints embrace their suffering
And that suff’ring makes them free
And that suff’ring makes them free
Martyrs die for love, my dear
But your love will be the death of me
