Wounded Keaton Henson

I would but I'm wounded
And so justified
If I could but I'm on will
God knows I've tried

And how late, the murderer
Whom lost his knife
And how safe, the collumnist
Behind his pride

And I would but I'm heartsick
And cannot stand
I would but you know me
I'm half a mess

And how holy the Vatican
With all its wealth
And how God damn hard it is
To drink your health

And how fervent the weakness
Of human skin
And how hard I've tried, my love
To let you in

I would but I'm wounded