Choose to use your heart if even towards the harshest fate that it may be swallowed, a masticated mistaken thing. That you may ripely pine in the mammoth nothing of the night left to your own devices & too exhausted to know what you want. I know, I know. And oh, such is the torment of the giving of your organs: when given willingly, how merciless a hand can be on you. & oh, the sour fear of defeat like wounded soldiers all still and slight lining like silk all the roads to your marrow. & all the heaps of hurt, well, they've had it up to here with you & further but when you feel it at your hip every time how you wish that it was home. Oh no, we're singing: Lay me down, lay me low, let go your crown, disarm me. Singing: take me south, take me home, hold your own and claim me. Claim me yeah yeah yeah. That we may ripely pine in the mammoth nothing of the night left to our own devices and we'll know, we'll know, we'll know just what we want. We'll know, we'll know, we'll know what we want.