My high priest is folded neatly
Back in your box, oh Lord
Called the song, he sang so sweetly
Back in your box, oh Lord
Found myself astride a tiger
Lifting my head just like you said
Drown me now in down of eider
Get me to bed, oh Lord
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows
Angels and idols spiraling wild
Winding your necks, oh Lord
Landed gentry ride up behind me
Winding your necks, oh Lord
Smokey progress, backroom sages
Let me back in, pull back the pin
'Cause now I've those torn out pages
Can't read the text, oh Lord
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows
In the house where they grew up
There were secrets and mistakes
That the eyes that see through you
Would give anything to erase
But picture them counting your fingers
Waiting for the focus of your eyes
No, no, don't point fingers
Fingers are for pointing at the sky
Oh no, don't point fingers
Fingers are for pointing at the sky
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows
Lay my bones in the cobblestones
Lay my bones in neat little rows