Generator ^ Second Floor

And I could never tell as a kid

What that window door went to

Only told to stay away

I almost had an accident at age 6

When I found the key in the atticAnd now the smell of these wood frames

Is the only sense I've left

So as you pull me from the bed

Tell me I look stunning and cadaverousAnd since you are my friend

I would ask that you lower me down slow

And tell the man in the black cloak

He doesn't need to trouble his good soul

With those Latin conjugationsAnd if it's all the same to them

You should tell your gathering friends

Please not to purse their faces grim

On such a lovely SundayDon't fix my smile, life is long enough

We will put this flesh into the ground again