I'm just a pile of bones,
leaning deep into my desk,
deep into my computer screen,
the sight is quite grotesque,

for I am just a pile of bones,
with my hollow clinking sound,
as my ribcage xylophone,
sinks slowly to the ground,

I'm just a pile of bones,
so please don't mind the mess,
I promise to pick up my pieces,
right after they all undress,

'cause I"m just a pile of bones,
it doesn't matter where I fall,
scattered across the desk here,
and spread out into the hall,

for this lonely pile of bones,
reserves the right to sleep,
in hopes I'll be put back together,
in the hours I seldom keep.