Smashed Birds

I walk the road when I realize my deathThe road that knows about my pity, little pastI grab one note and put it in my pocketWith your birdsI walked the roadUntil I came close to your houseYour house was floating on my waterI asked one tree one tree to take me inTo your houseAnd there I took all of your birdsAnd I smashed them in my pocket, ohAnd then I got the feathers off andI made myself a beautiful dressIn your basement was a letter to myselfYou wrote it when we were marriedI took this note and put it in my mouthWith your wordsAnd then I took all your wordsAnd I ate them by the fire, ohAnd then I tore the pages upAnd I made myself a beautiful dressI spoke your words out in your garden whereI built my new house near your flowers, trees, and beesI told our trees and bees to fly awayWith your words and your birdsAnd then I took all your words and I ate them by the fire, ohAnd me and your smashed birds, we danced the whole night to the moonAnd in the morning I climbed your tree and flew away