The Man Is Dead

And now I find the man is dead, devoid before I arrive

Tell me why his dried-up heart is flaking on my pillow

A working soul is hardly there

It left its bones on the railroad

The feeling man was bound, by fate, to be an inmate

I lost a leg in this dress. We lost a damsel in distress

So I'm in mourning, losing limbs all over the place

Come down to the merry town

Come down to the coast to see

To whom do the bones belong that linger 'neath the willow

To whom do the bones belong that linger 'neath decorum?

He said, "Come be my lover, come be my womb."

No room, no room

He said, "Come be my lover, jump in my bed."

Cold sweat, get bent