You are Sanskrit on my skin. Peel me open til I am nothing but a whisper. Name yourself sinner, I only play for pennies, And I don't play for sinners, I play for sadness. I play for dead things. Pull the bones from their sockets, Please be softer while you do it for I am fragile and vacant. Sarasvati saw me to sleep. I rested my head against the knees And the music I like rose up and down Like bobbing bodies in the river bend. And they say,