Bismuth, The Last Gentleman Lyrics

Lash me down

Secure my place

Invent new knots if it takes that

Accumulate enough weight that sand relents beneath my feet

Each word is hard to choose

That's why I do not travel well in groups

If choice is real and not a scam, then how am I not a monument

Brass plaque screwed beneath my chest

Words embossed that I can read, off the lips of a reverent audience, to recall

(Each time I forget) who, and where, and when, and why I am

If I could be a pretty thing, a hunk of Bismuth I would choose

The corners make it hard to roll out; the colors make it hard to lose myself

Each word is hard to choose

That's why I do not travel well in groups

Splash me down

Keep me wet

If I dry out then I will die

My skin will crack

My blood will seep

And there I'll be: dry and dead

If that happens my mortal coil will be spoiled by the wind

I'll be blown back to the places I have been

I'll be carried home

Each word is hard to choose

That's why I do not travel well in groups