[Verse 1]
There's dancing flames that follow me
They heat my neck and burn my knees
Don't want to cry I just need to wail
And have someone there to tell my tale

[Chorus]
'Cause this could be my funeral home
Made out of sticks and brittle black bones
Just a tree that's empty and old
Singing the songs I wrote for you

[Verse 2]
Maybe I still cross your mind
Maybe not, don't feel inclined
Is this a real life or just a dream?
'Cause it's all blurring at the seams

When did I buy yellow socks?
Is this some ruse to catch that fox?
That's been around since I was born
And shows its face in thunderstorms

[Chorus]
'Cause this could be my funeral home
Made out of sticks and brittle black bones
Just a thief that's stolen my mood
Singing the songs I wrote for you

[Bridge]
Oh, la la
Oh, la la
La, la la
La, la la la
Let go, maybe I will
Let go, maybe I won't
Let go, maybe I will
Maybe, maybe I will
[Outro]
'Cause this could be my funeral home
Made out of sticks and brittle black bones
Is it just me or have I grown cold?
Singing the songs I used to love