He was the greatest of all living wonders
And he had heard the words so many times,
He’d eventually come to believe them.
This was the gravest of all of his crimes.
No one really recalls how it started.
He was a wunderkind, that was for sure.
Some saw his life and his gift as a Godsend.
His goodness was pure.

Sacrifice. Sacrifice.
When you’re making it you’re bleeding and you never think twice
Of the things you lose when you make the sacrifice.

Back then this country was just crawling with people
Who didn’t even realize he had a last name.
They’d gladly sacrifice virginal daughters and sons
Just to touch the healing hem of his fame.
When he was younger he looked perfectly human.
He’d crack a grin and every sin was forgiven.
Now what’s left of his face bears the stain of disgrace.
He’s living small if you can even call it living.

repeat chorus

I saw him last week on a “Whatever Happened to Him?”
I saw him in the has-been cutout bin.
I heard him singing duets with the ghost of his mother
Because failure is the loneliest sin.
Now some people count on resurrection.
Others pray for the permanent sleep.
Some of those who have lived so fantastically
Feel this life has no secrets to keep.


Then a stiff wind blew him right off the face of the earth
And it blew him right into the sun.
And it made me feel warm and retrospective
To think that his earthly work all had been done.
And it made me feel like he’d made me feel.
And it made me feel like he’d made me feel.
Made me feel…


“Sacrifice” appears on Yarn: The Great Unravelling.

© and ℗ 2003 Marques Bovre