Clown

Another heart beating real slow
In cold storage
Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting
A transplant without a chest

The color bleeds into the room
Morning still suffers last night's wrung out moon

Inside there's water
Is it slowing to ice?
And you're spending the day
Quietly alive

If you see a fearsome cloud of dust
With a million arms and legs
Which spin like plates in orbit
Round half as many radiant heads
It could be that the rapture came
And we're the ones who're left
So while the faithful play bridge up in the sky
We cry, we cry
It's ours! it's ours now!
The abandoned cities and towns now
All that good green gaining ground now

O the bears wake up & shake their heads
Flowers stand up in their beds
& all the rest of us left for dead come down
& we all parade around