The devils on a bench
In Stanley Park
Shes a girl
Who looks like you
But only when its dark
The January sun
Sets on her eyes
Collapses on a landscape
Filled with neon butterflies
The Devil wears
A bracelet made of bronze
She offers me calligraphy
And puts the kettle on
Out on Commercial Drive
Its growin dark
The rest is rust
And stardust
In a vacant
Arctic Heart
Dont bury me
Very far
From where youll be
Emily
No dont bury me
Very far
From where youll be
Emily
Emily
The devil has
A hundred thousand names
These are girls
Who look like you
But only when it rains
So when Im on the highway
Of the Lord
I have to take a shortcut
To the one that I adored
Dont bury me
Very far
From where youll be
Emily
Dont let them bury me
Very far
From where youll be
Emily
Emily
Sweet Emily