When you were the age 15 they shot the arrow at you... 
You put that arrow in...
became an angel too... 
But you were proud to be you... 

When you made a pact with him...
a secret that you'd keep...
That you'd forget that sin...
could be so warm, so free! 
That you could find such release. 

My dear St Sebastian, in every breath [bad word] ...

The meaning of our [bad word] ..
the meaning of our design...
That I could be a son...
and someone's son I'd find...
To be the one, to be the one, man, man of mine. 
From a boy, from a son, into the man, man of mine. 

E-oh e-oh, e-oh e-oh, he'll sow his seeds into mine,
and we will grow, and we will grow just as our bodies entwine. 
E-oh e-oh, e-oh e-oh!

We wouldn't fail but be anything else but real.