When we lie white in our mourning slumber
When our skin smells of sun 
The filthy mass that moves and talks
Is swept into the sea, is gone
When we are naked, when we're on fire
When we render secret tribute to
This pain we fake, this blue desire
Love is still our craving and our shame

When [bad word] to me
Laughing and howling
When they [bad word] their anguish into me
And lick the blood as [bad word] down
They don't give place to youthful bloom
Not then, not now

In the leaves of blood, in the life of the tribe
I am dead to all the world
Except when the noises sleep or hide