My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails He doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails He doesn't make tables, dresses or chairs He can't carve a whistle cause he just doesn't care My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor Kings and queens them all knocked on his door Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves They all come to impact he's so eager to please.
— Florence + The Machine