Angle of Repose

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 laugher, 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