Meet me Sunday morning We'll hold hands and walk to church Race you to the coffin Hold our breaths, take turns Leave me for the vultures Let them pick me to the bone Chase you through the pine trees To the pond skip stones What's happening to us? We're turning into nothings Meet me in the gutter Share a needle fall asleep So hard becoming valiant When it's so easy being sheep So I'll see you Sunday morning Cross our fingers scream to god But if no one else can hear us Life itself is flawed What's happening to us? We're turning into nothings So hang your halo High in the trees Because nothings become Nothing