The Collector

if i had everyone i know in my own little box
 if they were laid out before me like so many precious rocks
 if the lonely wind ever blowin colder,
 i'd put one up on my shoulder
 but if they ever started lying or they're fighting or they're cryin'
 i could put 'em in that box of mine and they'd be gone
 gone, gone, gone (they'd be gone, gonegonegone)
 if i'd my own little darkroom with all my thoughts
 in black and white in the basement, hung up round the clock
 i'd always know what it was i was thinkingeven if i was been drinking
 if i ever felt enveloped by a thought that i 'd developed
 i'd just crop it up and sell it and it'd be gone
 gone, gone, gone
 if i just hold on, to everything
 i could just hold on, and nothing would go missing
 i'll just hold on
 i will have everything
 if i had all of our words reeled below me on tape
 i could just stop and eject if i needed to escape
 and if i only wanted some of your company
 you'd be spinning in front of me
 but if there ever was a word that was said and not deserved
 then i could chop out what was heard and then it'd be gone - gone, gone, gone
 i will collect you
 bit by bit, one by one
 i will collect you
 piece by piece, stone by stone
 i will collect you... bone by bone