
Ostia (The Death of Pasolini) Coil
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There's honey in the hollows
And the contours of the body
A sluggish golden river
A sickly golden trickle
A golden, sticky trickle
You can hear the bones humming
You can hear the bones humming
And the car reverses over
The body in the basin
In the shallow sea-plane basin
And the car reverses over
And his body rolls over
Crushed from the shoulder
You can hear the bones humming
Singing like a puncture
Singing like a puncture
Killed to keep the world turning
Killed to keep the world turning
Killed to keep the world turning
Throw his bones over
The white cliffs of Dover
And into the sea, the sea of Rome
And the bloodstained coast of Ostia
And the contours of the body
A sluggish golden river
A sickly golden trickle
A golden, sticky trickle
You can hear the bones humming
You can hear the bones humming
And the car reverses over
The body in the basin
In the shallow sea-plane basin
And the car reverses over
And his body rolls over
Crushed from the shoulder
You can hear the bones humming
Singing like a puncture
Singing like a puncture
Killed to keep the world turning
Killed to keep the world turning
Killed to keep the world turning
Throw his bones over
The white cliffs of Dover
And into the sea, the sea of Rome
And the bloodstained coast of Ostia
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