When I'm lying in my bed I like to pretend That my body is just bones on the beach It's the first time I feel rested Since my mother's womb I slept in My last home between the stones and the sea Some overzealous anthropology professor With all his students in tow Carry spades and books for studying Stumbling, discover me I implore them to leave me alone
Say, give me one millennia more there Maybe I will belong more there Than any place in which I was living When I'm bones on the beach
With the end long past nigh one eternal sigh I've no breath that is left to release And the loudness of mind has been gone since I died Was I meant in this life to find peace? Before I became bones on the beach
I hear footsteps And bones they cannot look left But I register her stepping nearby Her face is peaceful She's looked upon life's evil And considered it next to infinite skies She doesn't ask for more time
Give me one millennia more there Maybe I will belong more there Than any place in which I was living When I'm bones on the beach When I'm bones on the beach
Death won't bring what you think it will Death won't bring what you think it will
What I long for's nonexistent In any belief system All I, all I want is some rest There's no sentience in death Just the darkness at the worst Temporality and permanence I don't know what's on the other side But I don't think it's what I had in mind I hope I find some rest in this life
Death won't bring what you hope it will Death won't bring what you think it will Death won't bring what you think
Compositor: Paris Paloma Phillips (Paris Paloma) ECAD: Obra #43111214