If these bare walls could sing They would sing us a funeral song Push their wooden words into your mouth They would not wish to be A burden to your tongue Would not wish to carry on Too long With no sorrow Ask no greater pardon Than the pattern Time is carving in your skin If these pale bones could sway They would march to a funeral song And pull their milky way across the yard They would not wish to keep You tethered to their arms They would not wish to carry on too far With no sorrow Ask no greater pardon Than the pattern Time is carving in your skin Well if I could stretch my ears Into a grand procession And circle 'round your wisdom Like a song I would not wish to be The fire in your belly I would not wish for Holding you too long With no sorrow Ask no greater pardon Than the pattern Time is carving in your skin