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…