we walk around pretend
we don't see the sickening joke
played-out on we've just
a few years of juiced plump skin
then it slides off;
back to the skeleton.
back to the dust.
see the walking skeletons.

we're not the living.
we're the dying.
looking sicker everyday,
after the second decade.
rotting on the vine
is not glamorous,
but i'll be contagious.
i'll spoil the home
if i've got to go
back to the bone.

first, your face cracks
then, your hair colour doesn't last
you try to hide in fat
that's just a skeleton gift wrapped
you’ve got an arsenal of creams
fighting dehydrating
if you think you can win
maybe you should squint;
back to the skeleton.
back to the skeleton.

i'm falling from the sky,
but on my way down
i'm grabbing all life.
i'm not going alone.
i'll burn in the seas,
and level some trees.
i'll take a species
back to the ground.
not going alone; back to the bone…
back to the bone, back to the bone,
back, back, back… back to the bone,