The Man Is Dead

And now I find the man is dead, devoid before I arrive
Tell me why his dried up heart is flaking on my pillow

A working soul is hardly there. It left its bones on the railroad
The feeling man was bound, by fate, to be an inmate
I lost a leg in this dress. We lost a damsel in distress
So I'm mourning, losing limbs all over the place

Come down to the merry town, come down to the coast to see
To whom do the bones belong that linger 'neath the willow
Come down to the public sphere, come down to the forum
To whom do the bones belong that linger 'neath decorum?

He said, "Come be lover, come be my womb."
No room. No room
He said, "Come be my lover, jump in my bed."
Cold sweat. Get bent