There's a danger in speaking up When the powers that be find your lungs lacking Besides, did you want to be understood? If the time was right, bloody sure you would But the time was wrong; I'd a life's work to do After I finished that walk with you There's no record of your voice I taped you at Christmas refusing your uncles a song What they wanted was yours alone You'll enter eternity guarding your groans Your bones, bones, bones are a bleak masterpiece: Off with the camera, on with the fleece There's a blue swollen sea It comes rushing for me In the days left in balance When you've left me your diaries, your daughters, your dockets Will I set aside time for each of those? Or wonder if Pharaohs were buried with more clothes? A ghost with a life's work to do: Patrolling the body you'll leave me to ruin