| Headstones and landmines
|
| Flowers and red wines
|
| They buy you nice things
|
| And they sing pretty songs
|
| But it doesn’t help
|
| Oak trees and dirt piles
|
| Funerals and mistrials
|
| They say pretty words
|
| And they hug from six feet
|
| But it doesn’t help
|
| And nothing works but time
|
| And it all hurts but it’s fine
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mhmm, hmm
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mhmm, hmm
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, hmm
|
| Chaos and carpet
|
| A study in scarlet
|
| The room doesn’t talk
|
| And the furniture nods as I pass
|
| Heights marked in pencil
|
| Kitchen utensils
|
| The books don’t say sorry
|
| They don’t crowd and touch
|
| They’re just observers collecting their dust
|
| They know that nothing they say is enough
|
| So they don’t say anything
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mhmm, hmm
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mhmm, hmm
|
| Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, hmm |