Monuments - Samoans

When I leave my body

I’ll take my own way

When I breathe you can see

I exhale a perfect tale

And they’ll build monuments

And they’ll call me a ghost

When I return to Earth

Can I read my temperature?

Can I bleed a photograph of stitches across my hand?

A head-dress of sculptured sand

And they’ll build monuments

And they’ll call me a ghost

When I return to Earth