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