Looking at you on a glossy screen
As one could guess I see the hazy reflective me
Like an expectation of angels or Santa Clause on Christmas eve
Incense halo and us on a screen
Saint Stephen was stoned when he went
And I'd gladly crystallize in this moment
But I gave up thinking about you too much for Lent
Saint Stephen was stoned when he went
How could I be like a martyr
When I don't really wanna die?
Missing you would be much harder
But it's easy for us not to try to ever meet eyes
Joshua tree mountain near our campsite
At first, I thought the cactus was a needled cross
So I climbed atop to try to talk to Jesus
Believed my eyes and cut off both its arms
Saint Stephen was stoned when he went
And I'd spend eternity in our weed tent
But it already kills me to think of all our time spent
Saint Stephen was stoned when he went
How could I be like a martyr
When I don't really wanna die?
Missing you would be much harder
But it's easy for us not to try to ever meet eyes
Blind by our separate skies, a screen in the light
I saw your face in mine and I felt fine
Your picture, I kissed you, mirror makeout
Your picture and my picture
Engage in a monogamous relationship independent of us so
How could I be like a martyr?
How could I be like a martyr?
How could I be like a martyr when I don't wanna die?
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