If I were you and you were me
You could see it's more than just a whale song
More than random flowers bursting from my mouth
More than shit whispered into the crook of my arm
And not unlike the the murmurings coming from caves
With their mouths against the sea
I am the singer at the bottom of the well
Or I am one of many bathing beauties
And all along the beach
You can hear it getting whispered down the line
Song instead of a kiss, baby, this is a song instead of a kiss
And is that the saddest thing to know
No, it's not the saddest thing to know
I could see you've made a garden
From the flowers growing out of my remains
And I would say it's not the way I would have had them
But I would also say that it will work just the same
Here we see the shovel, here the hanging vine
Here is where the heart was, here we see the spine
Here is where he'll sing, and here is where you'll stand
Here we see the path from where your other lovers ran
Here we see the pond - It's where the whale will stay
Wondering what happened to freedom, and grace
There will be a whole entire garden at the end of this
There will be a song, instead of a kiss