My Little Reliquary

These old bones have been broken, ground down into dust
Mixed in a drink for their lust, but I have kept one shiny rib
Grieve for the skin that flutters without a hand to hold
No strength to caress or to scold, but I preserved one fingerprint

Well, I tapped all night with my glitter hammer
And they clapped with joy at the harmony
In the holy smoke and the mirror of glamour
Come and see my little reliquary

This old head has been plundered, emptied of its soul
Blown down a bottomless hole, but I breathed in a wisp of spirit
Pity the dreams that orbit around an empty shell
No colourful stories to tell, but I gathered a little wit

Well, I tapped all night with my glitter hammer
And they flapped their feathers at the filigree
In the holy smoke and the mirror of glamour
Come and see my little reliquary

Come and see my relics, come and see my relics

They tore the poems asunder, put the words to the fire
The cries of love curl from the pyre, but I captured one fleeting phrase
Ache for the thoughts that wander without a compass to guide
Down gentle paths infernos hide, but a notion I stole away

Well, I tapped all night with my glitter hammer
All enrapt at the gems fitting perfectly
In the holy smoke and the mirror of glamour
Come and see my little reliquary