Promises

Oh, we promise pretty things and we pledge with diamond rings; we profess
undying love
But does that word hold any weight, when we reserve the right to break any vow
that draws our blood?
Our word is so faint and feeble, broken by the slightest breeze or breath
Our hearts are — they’re so deceitful, sick and filled with lies that lead to
death
We are cowards and thieves
Will we never turn to grieve the damage done, never see, never quake with rage
at what we have become?
Yeah we get down on one knee; o, we play at chivalry, but we do not count the
cost
We say, «On me you can depend,» and «I will be there 'till the end,»
but we will not bear the cross