Bones Are Like Puzzle Pieces
“Bones Are Like Puzzle Pieces” by Joseph Kibler
I better check my heartbeat and crooked lung,
Cause there is a time for sleep and a time for fun,
Oh, my wristwatch snags an opened vein,
My pulse turns the second hand and we’re off, again,
Oh, the laughter, I hear it as I’m lowered into the ground,
Descend below the sounds,
And in the distance I hear the clinking of glasses,
While a poor old boy tips his hat and,
I’m just trying to help him get some cents from the crowd,
Some sense from the now,
Then I look down,
Beyond the steel vessel that has surpassed me, somehow,
And so I wait,
Smell the stench of a thousand fates,
With their palms stretched and trembling mouths,
But my pockets are turned inside out,
Am I one of the crowd?
Just an observer? Just for now?
Will I forget these times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind,
Theirs a soap box and a man, he spouts his words, I do not understand,
So tonight when I rest in bed, soliloquies will overrun in my head,
I’ll repeat his words, his “matter of fact” reactions,
Lost in thought, I gain no satisfaction,
If he knows what’s in store for our souls,
I’ll hold the door, for his ways to send me ashore,
Then again he may be crazy, but who’s to say I’m not?
The only real difference is dependant on who floats to the top,
The crowds are rushing by, as I wave to the backs of there heads,
Different directions has always been the way my life has went,
There’s a child crying out, arms wide, no ones around,
We’re both lost, here and now,
And so I wait,
Smell the stench of a thousand fates,
With their palms stretched and trembling mouths,
But my pockets are turned inside out,
Am I just one of the crowd?
Just an observer? Just for now?
Will I forget these times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind,
My bones they don’t work for me,
You ask to trade, how can I agree?
When yours look so damn good on you,
They look so damn good to me,
My hands are worn into a groove,
Like they were made perfectly for you,
For you to rest your hand in mine,
But that will take some time,
And so I’ll wait,
Smell the stench of my entire fate,
With my palms stretched and a trembling mouth,
But my hearts turned inside out,
Am I just one of the crowd?
Just your observer? Just for now?
Will I forget our times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind.
I better check my heartbeat and crooked lung,
Cause there is a time for sleep and a time for fun,
Oh, my wristwatch snags an opened vein,
My pulse turns the second hand and we’re off, again,
Oh, the laughter, I hear it as I’m lowered into the ground,
Descend below the sounds,
And in the distance I hear the clinking of glasses,
While a poor old boy tips his hat and,
I’m just trying to help him get some cents from the crowd,
Some sense from the now,
Then I look down,
Beyond the steel vessel that has surpassed me, somehow,
And so I wait,
Smell the stench of a thousand fates,
With their palms stretched and trembling mouths,
But my pockets are turned inside out,
Am I one of the crowd?
Just an observer? Just for now?
Will I forget these times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind,
Theirs a soap box and a man, he spouts his words, I do not understand,
So tonight when I rest in bed, soliloquies will overrun in my head,
I’ll repeat his words, his “matter of fact” reactions,
Lost in thought, I gain no satisfaction,
If he knows what’s in store for our souls,
I’ll hold the door, for his ways to send me ashore,
Then again he may be crazy, but who’s to say I’m not?
The only real difference is dependant on who floats to the top,
The crowds are rushing by, as I wave to the backs of there heads,
Different directions has always been the way my life has went,
There’s a child crying out, arms wide, no ones around,
We’re both lost, here and now,
And so I wait,
Smell the stench of a thousand fates,
With their palms stretched and trembling mouths,
But my pockets are turned inside out,
Am I just one of the crowd?
Just an observer? Just for now?
Will I forget these times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind,
My bones they don’t work for me,
You ask to trade, how can I agree?
When yours look so damn good on you,
They look so damn good to me,
My hands are worn into a groove,
Like they were made perfectly for you,
For you to rest your hand in mine,
But that will take some time,
And so I’ll wait,
Smell the stench of my entire fate,
With my palms stretched and a trembling mouth,
But my hearts turned inside out,
Am I just one of the crowd?
Just your observer? Just for now?
Will I forget our times?
Or bare it like a cross, leaving drag marks behind.