From outer space
I am you
At distances
You're me too
From far away
I assume
Everything
Needs less room

My ribs are turned
Like parentheses
And my lips have learned
What I don't believe
Could I
Find a world just right
Or will I
Always search too high

If I die
Don't bury me
Rattle me down
Like an old machine
Take my books
And my magazines
My photographs
Of you and me
Everything
I won't need

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Jeffrey Tweedy