All the pumping's nearly over for my sweet heart,
This is the one for me,
Time to meet the chef,
O [bad word] man is out of death.
Feel cold and old, it's getting hard to catch my breath.
's back to ash, now, you've had your flash boy
The rocks, in [bad word] 
your blood to oil,
your flesh to coal,
enrich the soil,
not everybody's goal.

Anyway, they say [bad word] on a plale horse,
But I'm sure I hear a train.
O boy! I don't even feel no pain-
I guess I must be driving myself insane.
 [bad word] it all! does earth plug a hole in heaven,
Or heaven plug a hole in the earth-'how wonderful to be so profound,
when everything you are is dying underground.'

I feel the pull on the rope, let me off at the rainbow.
I could have been exploding in space
Different orbits for my bones
Not me, just quietly buried in stones,
Keep the deadline open with my maker!
See me stretch; for God's elastic acre
The doorbell rings and it's
"Good morning Rael
So sorry you had to wait.
It won't be long, yeh!
She's very rarely late."