Father left a sword and a lamb, like only he can,
They hang on a wall like nothing at all.
Like they were nothing at all, just things on a wall.

The boy with a pen, in a hollowed out crypt, he sits.
He doesn't know when he plucked his first gray.
He sits there all day. With nothing to say.

The lines on her crown penciled by her frown
'The world moved much faster today,'
I say, 'did the world move much faster today.'

Stones leave beautiful news, we leave you some dust,
And even great columns all crack, like the small of a back.
we leave you some dust.

The Sunflowers drop seeds like their heavy and sick.
They're picked over by crows, then sprout over bones,
That found out forevers a trick.