If you live inside the old graveyardyour skin and bones get kinda hardyou blame it on all of the ones who left you
If you're in the closet with a broomwhy don't you sweep around the roommake little piles of all the things you don't understand
But it's in the mouth it's in the bloodit's sweet the taste this bit of lovepoor skin too thick to understandthe gravity and graceful plansin the place that's made of old relationswhere some got loved some got hatedhow absently you move aroundhow listlesshow in the night the battle ragedunder the blankets where we braveat least enough to recognize the storm is just a storm
Shine the lights across the bridgethe surface you can't follow itthe glossy name the wind in fitsgets gerters bucklin' at their beds
Will i be this way when i'm deadwill 
I go home and go to bedwill 
I wake up and wonder did something happen here
The weatherman well he should knowthe doctor too from down belowthey call to one another cross the wild and windy nightdon't forgetyou've got loveyou've got braveryyou've got trustyou've got bodiesresponsibilitiesthere's still mountains that's pushin' up from underneathyou've got painit's not so strange but now you've had enoughdon't forget your bones and skinor where you goor where you've been