His Grinning Skull

How can you pine anymore? It is beautiful And for all Unavoidable So these are his bones And his grinning skull So now he is home To the bluebottles He who was your bull And made the shadows run And I understand In all things he was quite the man But now perched on his skull He now wears cuckold's horns And they're growing full Pushing through the soil Pools gathering round my knees Temptation leers at me from every door So these are his bones Why won't you leave them alone? Worms crowding her feet Trying to pull me back to their holes Tap-tapping in the room below Nothing more than dead piles of bones Saying: 'I'll eat this young whelp's heart I will' 'I'll eat this young whelp's heart I will' 'I'll eat this young whelp's heart' HEAVE-HO HEAVE-HO With fists for spades we raid his grave With big black boots we stomp the roots With fists for spades we raid his grave With big black boots we stomp the roots And HEAVE-HO HEAVE-HO HEAVE-HO HEAVE-HO HEAVE-HO Heave-ho