I am made of tons of tiny countries With closely guarded borders Each country has a castle Each castle has a throne You are the tiny king Of your very own
I sneak across at night When the crossing is easy I watch and I wonder At your curious customs, But I forget them all by day
Did the night invade the day? Or was it day invaded night? Were you among the last to be found? Did you have your hands In the ground?
I buried the dead and they came stories I planted the stories, they came up singing I planted the song and it came up dancing I buried the dance and it Came up facing home
I buried the dead and they came laughing I planted the laughter, it came up singing I planted the song and it came up fighting I buried the battle, it came up facing home
I buried the dead and they came up laughing I buried the laughter and cried
This garden we’ve planted will come up around us And take us all down in a great big avalanche Of useless things, of persistently plastic things, Of things that cost us this tiny world of tiny kings