Los Campesinos
To The Boneyard
Respite in twilight, space in the cavity wall at grandparent's house behind the apple tree. Where once you sang with your siblings now watching bodies bobbing down the stream leaving the town.I'm a picture of no flesh only bones as we're stripping off my skin to run it up the pole,and salute the breeze that ripples the sheath of the skeleton that's trembling on the ground beneathWalked your entire country up the central reservationTake me to the boneyard baby, take me to the boneyard babyThe deadest stare, the slackest hair, the saddest conversationtake me to the boneyard baby, take me to the boneyard babyWe rifle through piles of bonesFor something to chew onFor something to ownThrough my teenage years at my mother's house, every evening 6 times there comes a phone call to ask"Where's my daughter gone?". She moved six years ago.Now receiver's cold, the phone calls dry, there's no one home.And that is what we feared the most.We rifle through piles of bonesFor something to chew onFor something to ownand so we stitched our eyes and mouths closed lest we open thembreaking the seal that our bodies have formedas a natural defence just to hold back the sorrowthat friends made today will be deaths mourned tomorrow.
From Letras Mania