My brother [bad word] in calculators
He assigns every number a name
He believes that they add up to certainty 
And he is upset with fractions that remain

So I examine these maps with my eyes and at best 
I can trace with my finger all the way 
To that town where she went an attempt to forget 
The cracks and the lines of my face

So Jetsabel cleaned out the closets for me 
And she piled the boxes in the hall
Tomorrow when she wakes [bad word] take them away
And they will never haunt me again 

But it is still hard to sleep with the moon's heavy beams [bad word] barefoot to the backyard
Just to freeze in my place by the rod iron gate
Too afraid and ashamed to advance

Today I walked through the snow and found a field of headstones
They were in rows like the weeks on calendars 
Where each box is a day that you can ever escape 
Without pills for your poisonous sleep

These memories leak from these faucets that weep
Hot tears splash against the shower floor 
And I stand in the steam as if inside a dream
I can see her again by the sink 

From behind the bathroom mirror she pulls a thermometer 
And placed it underneath my tounge
She said, "You are as pale as a sheet, you look awful my sweet 
Lay down and wait for the sun" 

So I stayed in that bed, she brought me water and read 
Each night from a volume out loud
She whispered soft poetry, her favorite was Anabel Lee 
And those words, like these [bad word] [bad word] me 

But the clocks kept waving their hands and she could not understand 
Why my temperature would never drop 
And although she promised with tears that she would always
be here 
I heard [bad word] like the sounding sea

I said, "My Arienette, oh, how soon you'll forget 
This house will never be your home 
And you will leave in the fall when the trees [bad word] graves 
And their color lie dead in the grass" 

Gold and green torture me 
Like the lies I believe too easily
Oh my Jetsabel, look at this [bad word] that I have made
If you want maybe drop by sometime 
Put some flowers on my grave
So that I will look beautiful in my silent sepulchur
Yeah, that's fine, throw those dresses away 
I don't want anything of hers

For the moon never shines
And the stars never rise 
Without bringing me dreams 

Haunted by the ghosts of those bright eyes