Your father meant your daughter 
To be a garden well watered
When he returned he whispered
This is my vineyard; how I love her 

That child is a thief
You know that she stole my father's love
She never will return 
What she's taken from all of us

When he came back
He bore a chalice
Been at the winepress
His feet were stained red

My child
Please partake
Show me you love me
Take this from me 

This chalice waits for one taste 
Just to see that it is good

That child is a thief
You know that she stole my father's love
She never will return 
What she's taken from all of us

That child while she sleeps
She doesn't know that while she dreams
That she's caused a tear and she's unaware
Of exactly what that means

I found upon the altar your finest of [bad word] I cannot help but wonder, my dear, where are you? 
The flesh of [bad word] does not smell sweet to me
Place your body on the altar; let us break bread and eat