If I were really cold I'd set my cello on fire,
To keep warm,
I'd smash it into kindling,
Forgetting its a living thing,
With strings,
Made of veins.
Oh the body is a breathing thing.
It swells with the heat and rain,
Oh the body is a breathing thing,
Like yours.
I'd like to keep it warm,
Until the heat between us saves you.
If I were drowning I'd turn my poor cello into a boat,
I could use its bow to row my weakened body to the shore,
My clothes,
Could make a sail,
If the boat did fail,
To move far on its own.
But if I kill you I'm alone,
At night it gets so cold,
The heat,
Between us saves you, love
And oh cello your fire glows,
Oh — how it glows.
The ashes from your burning wood
Have blackened all the snow,
And oh — how it glows.
The ashes from your burning wood
Have blackened all the snow,
Until the heat burns between us melts it all.