Martyr's Wife

I'm dating a boy named Jesus
His mother, Mary's sacred
Piety undiluted
I behold a future
Stuck in his palms and back
His feet and thorned wreath, oh
He sees things I don't see
He lives most dangerously
A martyr's wife I'll be

I'm dating a boy named Jesus
He talks in metaphors
He is a public nuisance
Disaster is his future
And I tell him so
But he says: I know
Mary glory doth await
On this world I can't stay
As they took him away

God created irony
To play mind games with you
I don't get the logic in
Nailing your son's hands and feet to a beam
God created irony
And I guess I'll have to settle for
A metaphor for what kind of like
I should lead

I dated a boy named Jesus
And though he's not here now
He calls me from the clouds
His burden is our future
Stuck in his palms and back
His feet and thorned wreath
Oh, when he comes back someday
He's raving mad, they'll say
And they'll treat him the same way