WHAT AM I TO TELL YOU BUT THAT I TASTE CEMENT
IS THERE NOT BEAUTY IN A HEADSTONE POURED WITH MIRTH
SALT ON THE PAVEMENT IS IT WINTER AGAIN
BENEATH AN UNFEELING EYE WILL YOU EVER SURVIVE
WILL MY BLOOD EVER HOLD MEANING THIS NIGHT
IN STRINGS OF THE UNIVERSAL TONES
WHAT AM I TO SAY BUT BURY ME IN HASTE
I WILL BE GONE TOMORROW ANYWAY