Neat Little Rows

My high priest is folded neatly, back in your box, oh Lord Call the song he sang so sweetly, back in your box, oh Lord Found myself astride a tiger, lifting my head, just like you said Drown me now in doubt of ire, get me to bed, oh Lord Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows Angels and idols, spiraling wild, windin' your necks, oh Lord Landed gentry, ride on behind me, windin' your necks, oh Lord Smokey progress, back room changes, let me back in, put back the pin 'Cause now I found those sought out pages, can't read the text, oh Lord Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows In the house, where they grew you There were secrets and mistakes That the eyes that see through you Would give anything to erase But picture they're counting your fingers Waiting for the focus of your eyes No no, don't point fingers Fingers are for pointing at the sky No no, don't point fingers Fingers are for pointing at the sky Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows Lay my bones in cobblestones Lay my bones in neat little rows