It's no secret everyone says that I am kinda sleazy
but what you asked me to do when you died left me kinda queasy
You were worried after you were gone that you'd leave me all alone
With your last breath you whispered in my ear and then you were gone
Now I've got you in an urn that sits up on a shelf
Day and night with no-one around I use it to amuse myself
Every day at four o'clock you and I make tea
All this time I was inside you now you're getting inside of me
Ashes and bone
Hard as a stone
Every night about the usual time we head off to bed
We don't need to change our routine just because you are dead
I have to admit, I like it, almost as much as before
Though some of you gets into the sheets, and some of you on the floor
In the morning I find traces of you smeared across my face
on the counters, in the air, scattered all over the place
On the lampshade, on the clock, even on the stair
Other places I won't mention I'll let you figure out where
Ashes and bone
hard as a stone
leave me alone
with my ashes and bone
Ashes and bone
I'm not alone
not on my own
with my ashes and bone.
words and music by J Franklin Evans
No comments:
Post a Comment