Sarasvati

You are sanscrit on my skin. Peel me open til I am nothing but a whisper. Name yourself Sinner. I only play for pennies and I don't play for sinners. I play for sadness. I play for dead things. Pull the bones from their sockets, please be soft while you do it, for I am fragile and vacant. Sarasvati sew me to sleep I rested my head against my knee, And the music I like goes up and down Like bobbing bodies in the river bed. And they say, "Mary, why are your songs so sad? Look at the luck and fortune you've had. Why do you cry at night?" Pull the bones from their sockets, please be soft while you do it for I am fragile and vacant. You can take my body and tongue and organs, whisper to my skin like death is all red and rosy and stuff. Pull the bones from their sockets, please be soft while you do it, for I am fragile and vacant.