i have no breath left, perhaps i'm drowning
for sure there are a lot of tears, but i'm not crying
funny that, being dead
that i might weep for love, but only in my head

they take the tray bring round the tea, customs calling
they've ribboned off a room for eating in and another room for grieving
whiskey burns, sheds the coats,
but the ones who need it most are too ragged in the throat

chorus
and they would have me sing of you that you were just on loan, another flower in the basket of the master
but if i bite the tongue that speaks of you and i change your room around,
will i forget you, will i forget you any faster?

you were a weight upon their shoulders, they carried you so far
too big for sympathy at school, a bright and lawless spark
they're building up your image now and they're playing by their empty social rules

chorus

and they would have me sing of you, that you were just on loan
another flower in the basket of the master
but if i bite the tongue that speaks of you, and i change your room around,
will i forget you, will i forget you any faster?

sometimes i dream that you are back
imagine what it would be like,
to see how'd we spend the day,
but i think we'd still only fight
you haven't gone beyond my love, beyond my care
there has to be a heaven somewhere

its good to be remembered, but i know you'd hate their show,
and i wish before you left that they had thought to let you know
its good to be remembered, but i shouldn't have let you go,
and i wish before you left that i had only let you know