I am made of tons of tiny countriesnWith closely guarded bordersnEach country has a castlenEach castle has a thronenYou are the tiny kingnOf your very ownnnI sneak across at nightnWhen the crossing is easynI watch and I wondernAt your curious customs,nBut I forget them all by daynnDid the night invade the day?nOr was it day invaded night?nWere you among the last to be found?nDid you have your handsnIn the ground?nnI buried the dead and they came storiesnI planted the stories, they came up singingnI planted the song and it came up dancingnI buried the dance and itnCame up facing homennI buried the dead and they came laughingnI planted the laugher, it came up singingnI planted the song and it came up fightingnI buried the battle, it came up facing homennI buried the dead and they came up laughingnI buried the laughter and criednnThis garden we’ve planted will come up around usnAnd take us all down in a great big avalanchenOf useless things, of persistently plastic things,nOf things that cost us this tiny world of tiny kings