Sadie Joanna Newsom

Sadie, white coat
You carry me home
And bury this bone
And take this pine-cone

Bury this bone to gnaw on it later;
Gnawing on the telephone, and
'Till then, we pray and suspend
The notion that these lives do never end

And all day long we talk about mercy:
Lead me to water lord, I sure am thirsty
Down in the ditch where I nearly served you
Up in the clouds where he almost heard you

And all that we built
And all that we breathed
And all that we spilt, or pulled up like weeds
Is piled up in back;
And it burns irrevocably
(And we spoke up in turns
'Till the silence crept over me)

And bless you and I deeply do
No longer resolute, and I call to you