I was 19, and dead from the neck up She was a Christian rock ingenue Sentimental as a cat's grave Her fucking body broke my eyes And she said, I'm gonna love the hell out of you Brandy wine rained on an android cross Even the swans were bankrupt and blue I'd been a liar my whole life She said, I wanna be your wife And she said, I'm gonna love the hell out of you In a lonely Swedish bookstore banging a librarian The sound of rain and lightning was my cue I fixed the Preakness in the rain I had a weakness for cocaine And she said I learned double entry bookkeeping when I was 12 years old I learned there's no imagination in the blues They registered my name with the Catholic hall of fame And she said, I'm gonna love the hell out of you