Choose to use your heart If even towards the harshest fate That it may be swallowed A masticated, mistaken thing That you may ripely pine In the mammoth nothing of the night Left to your own devices And too exhausted to know what you want I know I know And oh, such is the torment Of the giving of your organs When given willingly, How merciless a hand can be on you And oh the sour fear of defeat Like wounded soldiers all still and slight Lining like silk All the roads to your marrow And all the heaps of hurt Well they've had it up to here with you and further But when you feel it at your hip, every time how you wish that it was home Singing Lay me down, Lay me low Let go your crown, Disarm me Singing Take me south, Take me home Hold your own, and claim me That we may ripely pine In the mammoth nothing of the night Left to our own devices And we'll know, know just what we want We'll know We'll know what we want.