| A little narcotic warm on me
|
| What will I do without the weight of you
|
| Funeral singers wail
|
| Charity fails whose child are you now
|
| The lighthouse keeper
|
| Grazed the lip spread like a fog
|
| Stood in the weather and prayed for a push
|
| But doesn’t take the jump again tonight
|
| The book is aching for the tree
|
| Return, return, return to me
|
| All my friends, all my friends
|
| All are my friends are weeds and rain
|
| All my friends are half-gone birds
|
| Are magnets all my friends are words
|
| All my friends are funeral singers
|
| Funeral singers, funeral singers
|
| Wailing
|
| A spark is aching for the light
|
| Return, return, return tonight
|
| All my friends are keeping time
|
| All my friends have just quit trying
|
| All my friends are funeral singers
|
| Wailing |