Joan's Bones Songtext
von Andy Rinehart

She said her name was Joan
That was the day
When I met her
Then she said goodbye
She had an appointment
An appointment to die
So I said, "Hey, don′t let me be in your way"
She said, "No, that's alright"
She meant so much to me
I think I will carry

They rattle like leaves
And shake like old cans
She was a saint who died on the sand
Chopstick finger ease
Elbows look like scones
Not even a giraffe could have bones like Joan′s
Hips like the sea
Shins just like trees
Got to carry Joan's bones or she won't marry me


Got some in my pocket and some I keep in a bag
But mostly up Joan′s bones you carry in the wagon

So I said, "Hey, don′t let me be in your way"
She said, "No, that's OK"
It could take a while
And from eye to eye she smiled
And the sun sits so still
And the sand waits until
Joan begins to laugh
From her belly to her calf
She meant so much to me
I think I will carry

They rattle like leaves
And shake like old cans
She was a saint who died on the sand
Chopstick finger ease
Elbows look like scones
Not even a giraffe could have bones like Joan′s
Hips like the sea
Shins just like trees
Got to carry Joan's bones or she won′t marry me


Got some in my pocket and some I keep in a bag
But mostly up Joan's bones you carry in the wagon

Have you ever seen the marrow of a saint?
The joke of a soul, the toes of a Joan?
Strewn all about and bleached in the sun
Hardly a trace of the clown-like face

Have you ever seen the marrow of a saint?
The joke of a soul, the toes of a Joan?
Strewn all about and bleached in the sun
Hardly a trace of the clown-like face

They rattle like leaves
And shake like old cans
She was a saint who died on the sand
Chopstick finger ease
Elbows look like scones
Not even a giraffe could have bones like Joan′s
Hips like the sea
Shins just like trees
Got to carry Joan's bones or she won't marry me

Got some in my pocket and some I keep in a bag
But mostly up Joan′s bones you carry in the wagon

They rattle just like leaves
And shake like old cans
She was the saint who died on the sand
Chopstick finger ease
And elbows look like scones
Not even a giraffe could have bones like Joan′s
Hips like the sea
Shins just like trees
Got to carry Joan's bones or she won′t marry me

They rattle just like leaves
And shake like old cans
She was the saint who died on the sand
Chopstick finger ease
And elbows look like scones
Not even a giraffe could have bones like Joan's

They rattle just like leaves
And shake like old cans