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  • It is early
    You are dead
    There are crows in our bed
    But I won't come undone
    We are done, we are done
    There is air still
    In my lungs
    I will get up and get on
    With the other mouths and tongues
    And the work there is to be done
    This is what becomes of us
    There are dim things in the pond
    There is dust under the rug
    And I don't even know
    What's below, what's below
    But I am up!
    I am above!
    I have a new love!
    And it's warm like a gun
    Or a knife that I fell on
    This is what becomes of us
    I was not ready
    You won't be back
    I was not ready
  • It is early
    You are dead
    There are crows in our bed
    But I won't come undone
    We are done, we are done
    There is air still
    In my lungs
    I will get up and get on
    With the other mouths and tongues
    And the work there is to be done
    This is what becomes of us
    There are dim things in the pond
    There is dust under the rug
    And I don't even know
    What's below, what's below
    But I am up!
    I am above!
    I have a new love!
    And it's warm like a gun
    Or a knife that I fell on
    This is what becomes of us
    I was not ready
    You won't be back
    I was not ready