I was floating above my bed,
Like a body in a river, in car.
And the only sound in my head
Was a dying cricket in a jar.
And I saw little beams of light
Come into the bedroom,
From underneath the door.
And they crawled under my sheets,
And they came out of every single pore.
When I think about you, (oh oh oh!)
When I think about you, (oh oh!)
When I think about you,
Flowers grow out of my grave, grave grave!
Grave, grave, grave!
Flowers grow out of my grave!