We Build our Coffins

We Build Our Coffins with Stars and Thread

We build our own coffins
A little more each day
The red thread grows tighter
The chains don't delay

Link by link
And yard by yard
I nail down the boards
I punch my card

We all flirt
With the tiniest notions
Self conclusion
In one simplified motion

Some accept it
Say that there is a reason
Others run
But for everything, there is a season

Seventy-six elements born in the stars
Our flesh and bone
The same materials
As mars

Bright yellow pin holes
In the blackest of night
It's from the stars that we're born
And with the stars that we'll die

The charcoal spots
On the boards of my coffin
Are where the stars fell
And showered above me
Once every so often

So cut my thread
And set me free
I'll fly away
And a star will die with me.