believe the heart’s a theatre,
and that the actors on its stage
are playing dreams but they’re imposters
and that the devil pays their wage.

I believe the passion of that drama
that we’re certain is for real
is a diversion for our senses
while the director comes to steal.

CHORUS
And ever since I was a little kid, I didn’t want to run away,
But it scared me half to death to think that I might have to stay.
I’ve had a hundred scarecrow certainties.
I’ve built a wooden drawbridge for my brain.
But they all burn up
when I see Your face
against the window pane.

I believe that in the passionate,
there’s a part that is divine
I’ve seen the cosmos in a woman’s smile,
tasted eternity in wine.

But I don’t just believe in sentiment,
or miracles of everyday.
I believe that there are lepers healed.
I believe the dead are raised.

BRIDGE
Jesus was a lover. He had a fire in His eyes
that could burn away excuses, cremate your alibis.
He had a gaze that would expose to you all the subtle lies
that your soul permits your heart to tell concerning all that it denies.