You dig and kill for me
take me out off the mire
put yourself into the pit
after your wash and straighten me out
polish and store me well.
Your life, ruled by my looks and weight
unable I am to help your moral state
Though I am a corpse of shiny weight,
dreading that you may become of the same fate.
What is there so great you make me
to live a life of hiding, not free
that you so want my company
even when you know I am cold and bare
that you cannot love me.