Our Lady's Grave (and The Dust That Settles On Her Bones) Lyrics

The missing lace upon her sleeve,
inspires fear among her thieves.
Her painted toes, and drawn up knees -
the words she wrote, she'd like to be.

She'll pass the gate, and linger there,
the summer sweet upon the her hair.
And no one knows, what she will be;
for all things go-
sobriety.

The morning's dew upon her dress,
she'll wake up to her servants mess.
Out in the yard, across the way,
she will remain within her grave.

She's finally home.