We wed behind the old house, offered our skin
Removed it from our branches, and let it be curtains
And I asked him where he put the bones;
And I asked her where she put the bones:
They fed them to the horses

We shivered and kissed our linen loud
And held the holy spirit in our mouths
And my beard did break when it found his face;
And my beard did break when it found her face

But there's still one light in one house, far in fields from the city
One light is a forest fire left running in the pantry
One light is a campfire in the living room for reptiles
Who promise they'll make new skin between the wars, at nightfall

Wild dogs, can I confess I never wanted this marriage?
Coming home to wife and kids and failed science experiments
Tear down all the laundry lines!
Get the sickness out of me!

And we danced to "Cecilia", like I did with my mother
Stomping loud, we filled the kitchen up with each other
We shaved our heads clean, and left off the lighthouse
Kept clothes for ransom, while he pulled the lakes out
And he confessed a gravedigger shared with him his bed
And I pulled the telephones right out of his head
He quit his job, pulled his teeth, and moved down to the harbour
He stole all my money to pay for the lawyers
And now he's a whale-killer in the wasteland for hire
He can only get it up when you set him on fire

And now my bashed head can't sew his blood on my back
We are broke for bricks, and the house is quiet

And I asked him where he put the bones;
And I asked her where she put the bones:
They fed them to the horses