| How much do you make
|
| in that death factory
|
| Severance owed
|
| in the chamber of revolvers
|
| Empty jails
|
| fall from my scalp
|
| Shake the globe and let me out
|
| If still I can remember the day
|
| That they took you from me Seems like I’ve been running
|
| from your trenchant memory
|
| Harpsichord will warn me when it’s over
|
| 'Cause if heaven breathes
|
| then someone trade places with me
|
| 'Cause I don’t want to tear feathers instead of rags
|
| When do I get to see the body
|
| preserved inside this grin
|
| Sewn in the lips
|
| were her last words
|
| I’ll be damned — I can still hear her laughing
|
| Your angels have tangled their brass again
|
| The comfort of doubt still it keeps you thin
|
| And still I can remember the day
|
| That they took you from me Seems like I’ve been running
|
| from your trenchant memory
|
| Harpsichord will warn me when it’s over
|
| 'Cause if heaven breathes
|
| then someone trade places with me
|
| 'Cause I don’t want to tear feathers instead of rags
|
| Does your temperature ache
|
| Is your glass about to break
|
| Are you purple with current
|
| Will you now become the servant
|
| Gordian knots in the power lines
|
| Saucer fills so empty with pesticide
|
| Like the pharaohs of old
|
| Bury me in gold
|
| If your son refuse to fight
|
| in the Stockholm setting that we provide
|
| If your heart does cease to speak
|
| My fingernail choir
|
| will make your chalkboard sing |