Six I Would Set Myself On Fire For You

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A good name pitched into the soil (Tear the land)
With the shovel (With the spade)
With the towel and cache (With the hand and cache)
This crown (This crown)
In a mount of wet winter earth
A sole display for our troubles (Endured)
Neither stone (Nor post)
Nor flower (Shall serve)
Our burden (Our burden)
The beholder (The beholder)
With ornament (Or reminder)

And the neighbors do protest
You'll reap no greater harvest
But it's never for the profit of the crop (Nor the grace)
Nor the grace of the garden
That I this name commit (To a Georgia red clay ditch)
To shed all supposition and disappointment
I sow these seeds of my desired end

We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(But if she doesn't trust anybody, I hope no one....)
We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(...ever trusts her again)
We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(But if she doesn't trust anybody, I hope no one....)
We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(...ever trusts her again)
We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(But if she doesn't trust anybody, I hope no one....)
We give ourselves the small attempts to share
(...ever trusts her again)