Dead Dressed

One tenth of her.

I feel her talking through my stand-up hairs.

Which of you, or does he touch them or is he daft.

It's hard boys alone and old,

It's really like her it wears her clothes.

I might be, I might be.

But you're not me and you don't know.

I'm back in the mine.

Don't be afraid my love for you to die.

It stands it's ground as I stand mine.

The ex-flesh of the temperature,

I'm just as beautiful as your light allows.