Against the Window Pane

I 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.