We Always Kill Your Kind
Hey there Jack and Sylvia
Didn't they tell you the truth
Now look at you all stretched out cold
Aren't you kind of ashamed
All the words, all the world
And most of all the time
But didn't we say they would get to you
We always kill your kind
Washed up young must have left you with
A bad taste in your mouth
But isn't that the way it's supposed to me
Someone told me that once
Left behind, left without
And left to feed yourself
But didn't they say that the dead survive
Only on somebody's shelf
(Green Man) You wore track marks like stigmata
as though needles piercing your flesh
could somehow transmute the sins
enacted on your body,
as though you could tear deep enough
to rip away memory
and emerge wet and fragile like a newborn.
But now your skin has healed,
soft and moonlike,
and your eyes are the cool green
of the pool Tara was born from
when a single tear landed in the water,
and your muscles pull me deep inside you,
reminding me that resurrection comes
not from iron nails and battered bodies,
but from the pungent warmth
of rich soil and rotting leaves
where dry seeds sprout
and grow toward the sun.
Bury me deep, bury me warm
Bury me under the ground
Mark me down as another one
Who couldn't quite handle it all
And run away across the sky
Run cuz you just can't win
And if you find some piece of mind
Didn't they tell you the truth
Now look at you all stretched out cold
Aren't you kind of ashamed
All the words, all the world
And most of all the time
But didn't we say they would get to you
We always kill your kind
Washed up young must have left you with
A bad taste in your mouth
But isn't that the way it's supposed to me
Someone told me that once
Left behind, left without
And left to feed yourself
But didn't they say that the dead survive
Only on somebody's shelf
(Green Man) You wore track marks like stigmata
as though needles piercing your flesh
could somehow transmute the sins
enacted on your body,
as though you could tear deep enough
to rip away memory
and emerge wet and fragile like a newborn.
But now your skin has healed,
soft and moonlike,
and your eyes are the cool green
of the pool Tara was born from
when a single tear landed in the water,
and your muscles pull me deep inside you,
reminding me that resurrection comes
not from iron nails and battered bodies,
but from the pungent warmth
of rich soil and rotting leaves
where dry seeds sprout
and grow toward the sun.
Bury me deep, bury me warm
Bury me under the ground
Mark me down as another one
Who couldn't quite handle it all
And run away across the sky
Run cuz you just can't win
And if you find some piece of mind