In frames of Saturday's relinquished thoughts
Of those who tried to make sense of the human heart
"All the silver-faced and embraced will turn to stone and won't want you anymore"
(We assume like "never was and never will"
(That) entombed; we'll never be exhumed and familiar)
A famous Saturday, I know, I owe me one
Alone and cumbersome, I know, I owe me one
How soon they recognize their only son and argue over names for days and days
The famous Saturday's relinquished thoughts of those who tried to escape from my putrid heart