Bones, or I'm sorry it's not fair

As the sun set, we sat on the sofa And talked about how she'd been doing so far Then we got in the car and drove to the yard Where she found them amidst all the dirt Then I stared as she potted the bones that had rotted And wiped both her hands on my shirt Oh, the scariest word is the best one to use When she's burying bones that she put in your shoes For ten days until you were dancing in place And she stared as the sweat rushed out of your phase And she (And she) spilled the truth all over your shoes A power improperly used You built up your walls after they were attacked And you walked your way back 'round a ten-mile track By the time you got home you had turned ten years old And I stared at you cold with your bag full of bones And I said I'm sorry it's not fair I'm sorry it's not fair I'm sorry it's not fair I'm sorry it's not fair