You climbed under my bed and into my heart
Now I'm out of my head on this love
And the wolf-child gave a warning wrapped
in a bag of old bones
And my confessor says, and my confessor says

Is this love? Is this love?
Over and over again

And I strung out the chords on the strings
of my heart that you ripped from my body
And I traced in the dust of the bones
of our child that you broke from my body
And the wolf child gave a warning
wrapped in a bag of old bones
And my confessor says, and my confessor says

Is this love? Is this love?
Is this love? Is the love?

Is this love?

You climbed under my bed and into my heart
Now I'm out of my head on this love
And the wolf-child gave a warning
wrapped in a bag of old bones
And my confessor says, and my confessor says

Is this love? Is this love?
Is this love? Is this love?
Over and over again