Cages and cases of starving birds and dead things
No longer look anything like they did
When they been living
The things you love you to put into cement
In order to keep them they have to be dead
You think that he's yours
But it's only in your head
His coffin is not your arms
His grave is not your bed
Buckets and caskets full of garbage and ashes
Nothing of collections !!
Of nothing you've been protecting
The things you love you put into cement
In order to keep them they have to be dead
You think that he's yours
But it's only in your head
His coffin is not your arms
His grave is not your bed
Taking bouncing concrete
Harbor a love for things that don't exist
Try to set them into stone
But you can't
He's bad of bones and flesh
The things you love you put into cement
In order to keep them they have to be dead
You think that he's yours
But it's only in your head
His coffin is not your arms
His grave is not your bed