Cages and cases Of starving birds and dead things No longer look anything like they did When they'd been living The things you love You put into cement In order to keep them They have to be dead You think that he's yours But it's only in your head His coffin is not your arms His grave is not your bed Lockets and caskets Full of garbage and ashes Nothing but collections of nothing You've been protecting The things you love You put into cement In order to keep them
They have to be dead You think that he's yours But it's only in your head His coffin is not your arms His grave is not your bed Taking baths in concrete Harbor a love for things that don't exist Try to set into stone But you can't He's made of bones and flesh The things you love You put into cement In order to keep them They have to be dead You think that he's yours But it's only in your head His coffin is not your arms His grave is not your bed