Cages and cases 
Of starving birds and dead things 
No longer look anything like they did 
When they'd been living 

The things you love 
You put into cement 
In order to keep them 
They have to be dead 
You think that he's yours 
But it's only in your head 
His coffin is not your arms 
His grave is not your bed 

Lockets and caskets 
Full of garbage and ashes 
Nothing but collections of nothing 
You've been protecting 

Taking baths in concrete 
Harbor a love for things that don't exist 
Try to set into stone 
But you can't 
He's made of bones and flesh