| You tried to taste me | |
| I taped my tongue to the southern tip of your body | |
| Our bones are too heavy to come up | |
| Squished into a single cell of wood | |
| And I made an excuse | |
| And you found another way to tell the truth | |
| I put no one else us above us | |
| We'll still be best friends when all turns to dust | |
| We are so smooth now | |
| Our edges are beaten driftwood whittled down | |
| Old bodies slip when they make love | |
| We'll mine our sparks to shoot above us |
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