In the graveyards are families and friendsnStaying for a while but eager to move onnResting in vertical tombs that light up at ChristmasnThey flicker in while people come and go through guilt mainlynnAnd we're tribal in our vandalismnOur epitaphs in graffiti artnnIt scratches the cheeks and from the top it falls downnOur bald heads first we exit the wombnIn the graveyards are families and friendsnEvery curtain's drawn, every curtain drawnnnAnd we're tribal in our vandalismnOur epitaphs in graffiti artnnWhere we once looked out now concrete stares