Outside and eroded,
Worn away and weather-stained,
That's where I'll be.

Beneath the brush of human nature,
Under the rubbish of society,
That's where I'll be.

Remove the trash of era,
Poison the weeds of tradition,
That's where I'll be.

Just above the dirt and the insects,
Written in pencil,
That's where I'll be.

Find me,
Keep me,
Trace me permanent.