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Bones

Written by J. Benjamin

Your father made a fortune on the pain and torture

Of the labor never paid to build the streets

And as he lay there dyin’, he pulled you to him cryin’

He said, “My dear, their faces starin’, back at me”

And you said, “Father, whatever do you mean?”

He said, “There’s bones under the road…

I buried them deep…

And I know, that when I go, they’re waiting for me”

Your uneventful husband, he doesn’t know he does it

But when you are talking, he looks at your feet

You got your body sunlit, but then the butler done it

He said, “Ma’am I’m sorry but you know I’m weak”

And you said, “I thought we weren’t supposed to speak”

There’s bones under the road

Buried for me

Oh know, that when I’m old, bones I will be

You have a lovely daughter, you held her underwater

But you wanted her dressed up to greet your guests

They said “My dear you look pale, soaked wet and frail”

She screamed, “Your face is made up to hide a mess…

oh why don’t you just go on and confess.”

That there’s bones under the robes, you’re wearing for me

Oh I know that when I’m old

Bones I’ll be

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