Fake yer death, if you need tonTo afford distractions from the living, ohnYou can make a body out of plaster soaked in your own bloodnnThen leave the body in your bednCovered with the sheet like you were murdered in your sleepnYou can burn your house down and leave some bonesnMake sure the bones look something like your ownnnDig them upnSteal them from the grave of someone your agenYou take these bones and place themnInside the plaster soaked in your bloodnnThen leave the body in your bednCovered with the sheet like you were murdered in your sleepnYou can burn your house down and leave some bonesnMake sure the bones look something like your ownnnShould our little crime go amissnShall they see the bodies are not flesh?nWe wait until they're buriednnUntil we rest, my love, until we restnnAnd we can hide in the room like we've always wanted tonTo work on what we love, to work on what we lovenWe won't tell anyone we're not dead, sonWe can hide away to work on what we lovennUntil we rest, my love, until we rest