Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car

Love was a promise made of smoke
 In a frozen copse of trees
 A bone cold and older than our bodies
 Slowly floating in the sea
 Every morning there were planes
 The shiny blades of pagan angels in our father's skies
 Every evening I would watch her hold the pillow
 Tight against her hollows, her unholy child
 I was still a beggar shaking out my stolen coat
 Among the angry cemetery leaves
 When they caught the king beneath the borrowed car
 Righteous, drunk, and fumbling for the royal keys
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 Love was a father's flag and sung like a shank
 In a cake on our leather boots
 A beautiful feather floating down
 To where the birds had shit on empty chapel pews
 Every morning we found one more machine
 To mock our ever waning patience at the well
 Every evening she'd descend the mountain, stealing socks
 And singing something good where all the horses fell
 Like a snake within the wilted garden wall
 I'd hint to her every possibility
 While with his gun, the pagan angel rose to say
 "My love is one made to break every bended knee"