One hundred other lovers, more, one hundred other altars
If I should slow my pace and finally subject me to grace
And love that shames the wise, betrays the heart's deceit and lies
And breaks the back of foolish pride
You know I've been unfaithful Lovers in lines While you're turning over tables With the rage of a jealous kind I chose the gallows to the aisle Thought that love would never find Hanging ropes will never keep you And your love of a jealous kind Love of a jealous kind --- Slow.
Slow your pace.
Subject yourself to grace.
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