Bones

(*Beth Thornley)
Someday they'll find your bones*
Under my bed;
Left there for dead though you're not yet
The window curtains fade; slow like the day
I hope you'll stay; I hope you'll go away
And it's not your fault it’s a poison well
But it’s still your fault you keep drinking there
Someday they'll find your heart
Under my chair
I try pretending it’s not there
Replacing mine with yours is all it’d take
To warm it up so it won’t ache as much
And it's not your fault it’s a poison well
But it’s still your fault you keep drinking there
I thought I had long time ago
Buried them deep; buried them low
But they’re still here and they won’t go
I hear them ache I feel them roll
Someday they'll find your eyes
Under the stove
Crying for what they have been shown
I take what’s left of you now and again
And hold you like I wish you’d held me then
And it's not your fault it’s a poison well
But it’s still your fault you keep drinking there
And it’s not your fault; but it’s still your fault
And it’s not your fault; but it’s all your fault