My high pirest is folded neatly
Back in your box
Oh Lord
Gone the song he sang so sweetly
Back in your box
Oh Lord

Found myself astride a tiger
Lifted my head
Just like he said
Drown me now in down of eider
Get me to bed
Oh Lord

Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows

Angels and idols spiralling wild
Wind in your necks
Oh Lord
Landed gentry line up behind me
Wind in your necks
Oh lord

Smokey progress back room sages
Let me back in
Put back the pin
Now I’ve found those torn out pages
Can’t read the text
Oh Lord

Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows

In the house where they grew you
There were secrets and mistakes
That the eyes that see through you
Would give anything to erase

But picture them counting your fingers
Waiting for the focus of your eyes
No no don’t point fingers
Fingers are for pointing at the sky