| There is blood inside my body
|
| There are things I’ll never see
|
| When the doctors cut me open
|
| They will find all the organs I don’t need
|
| But I got this feeling they will find you
|
| Wrapped inside me like a snake
|
| Blowing kisses in the morning while you say
|
| 'Ben, don’t be home too late'
|
| We are both just soil, decomposing slowly
|
| I would have never got to this age, if you hadn’t found me
|
| And when you did, I felt relief, a 20 year long exhale
|
| So I don’t mind being soil, decomposing slowly
|
| Decomposing slowly
|
| Decomposing slowly
|
| And as I lay there on the table
|
| They will cut me up inside
|
| They will finally set you free from everything
|
| From all those years of holding tight
|
| We are both just soil, decomposing slowly
|
| I would have never got to this age, if you hadn’t found me
|
| And when you did, I felt relief, a 20 year long exhale
|
| So I don’t mind being soil, decomposing slowly
|
| There is blood inside our bodies
|
| And all these things we’ll never see
|
| But when the doctors cut you open on the table
|
| I got this feeling they’ll find me
|
| We are both just soil, decomposing slowly
|
| I would have never got to this age, if you hadn’t found me
|
| And when you did, I felt relief, a 20 year long exhale
|
| So I don’t mind being soil, decomposing slowly
|
| Decomposing slowly
|
| Decomposing slowly
|
| Decomposing slowly
|
| I would have never got to this age, if you hadn’t found me |