I lay my head upon your chest
Bones of iron bones of lead
And death is rattling the cage

Like a bird that would escape
But there’s no room for thoughts like these
In the garden where we sleep


And I am on a burning ship
Clothes all flying in the wind

But I am beautiful like this
When you hold me in your hands
But there’s no room for thoughts like these

In the garden where we sleep

Always searching for those breasts

Pumping morphine
Always searching for--
Don’t you fly to them

Don’t you fly to them
You can fly to me


I’ll take the moment in my hands
Pull it open ‘til it sings
Before the motion of this place

Where nothing stops to have a name
Will leave us hanging like a tear…