Everything was broken, but I went right on hoping

One of my consistently favorite songs in life is “All I see are bones” by Lonesome Wyatt and the Holy Spooks. Its poetry is elevated by its music. Melody is found in atmosphere. And there again is the biomedical condition: all I see are bones.

 

All I see are bones by Lonesome Wyatt et al.

With one unthinking motion
I fell into the ocean
And sunk down to the bottom
Of your heart
Everything was broken
But I went right on hoping
That someday we would never
Be apart
Now all I see
Are bones, bones, bones
All I see are bones, bones
Bones
Fences needed mending
Wheat fields needing tending
The scarecrow’s breath grew heavy
In the air
We started pretending
Our crippled hearts were mending
Funnel clouds were forming
Everywhere
Now all I see
Are bones, bones, bones
All I see are bones, bones
Bones
Old black voodoo magic
Buried in a casket
Summoning the wisdom
From below
But all we got was static
We climbed up to the attic
And watched the rain
Turn slowly into snow
Now all I see
Are bones, bones, bones
All I see are bones, bones
Bones