Are we all of us untrained?
How do we open arms of giving?
We make these unions on our own
Did you swallow up some spirit?

But I should have gone
To see you go
I should have gone
To see you

At the hospital
Words were dripping from your mouth
Why can’t you stay?
I should have gone to see you go
I should have gone to see you go

All of your signs will be taken
For exactly what they are
And we carry alongside
And we carry alongside
But who knows
What they are?
But who knows
What they are?

We think about continuing the story
But is that going anywhere
I fell into your curves
That pointed away from me
Ripped the clothes you gave me right off of my back
And there is no certainty in the feeling
I don’t hold on to or keep you

Are you trying to live again?
Barren with the womb and the land in solidarity
I went looking there was nothing to find or see
There are birds in the trees, but they’re leaving, finding identities

Are you healthy?
Such hard angles
The houses I’ve lived in are crumbling
And there are lines on my face

Are you hungry?
What impulse driven life
Would you rather that it be filled up?
Now that we know where we live

Why is it that you look up now?
The people came from all around
What rocky soil
What thorny ground
The people came from all around

The ramparts all came crashing down
From the horns and the drums
And I’ll stop trying to be a colossal force
Something that would shake the ground

What traditions do you hold so close to you?
We’ve all but fallen for our leisure
Safe houses and quiet gardens
Oh, Excavator

Do you only nurture when the sun is out?
The light was shining on my stature
You were at a boil
Oh, Excavator

I named you with certainty
As if the surfaces of things
Might represent
The condition of something that is not tangible
“Why don’t you want to be found?”
“Why don’t you want to be found?”

If there is any other way to go
I will let it happen
If I don’t know how to break through
With coffee prayers
Where is the stimulation?
AHHHH

And we all understand now
That we are but skeletons
And if I’m the Animus
And you’re the Anima
We are but skeletons
With old age and weariness
We are but skeletons