Pin me to the floorboards, wrap me up in glass
Leave me in the leaves and let my body turn to grass
It matters not the way I’m broken,
It just matters that it’s over,
Like a sinner gone to mass.
I cling to brittle fabric, that tears at my distress
Velvet and the woodwork when we sinners go confess.
I can’t help but think I’m worthy
Of a fate in shallow ground
Just let me rest in lace, in my closet’s softest dress.
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