400 bones crumpled in bed
I'm the only one who knows that you're still breathing
Beneath the blanket of another French death
This afternoon is one I will be keeping
Where skin is painted by a brush from the sun
Pull the sheets up to your neck so she can't see us
And let the clocks do all the worrying for once
We're passing out inside the sleeping mausoleum
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This is my safe house in the hurricane
It is where my love lays
200 treasured bones
This is my warmth behind the cold war
That day is what I'm living for
Forever coming home
Here's to the room I can rest in
The door I'll always open, never to be closed
You as my horizon line
the star I never get by
Takes me back to home
200 perfect bones
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On absent days I will return to this place
and play a silent color film within my head
in which the pillow leaves a cold upon your face
and all at once it all makes perfect sense
400 bones crumpled in bed
I'm the only one who knows that you're still breathing
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