It’s funeral season. The limos line up outside. and I cant see a reason, why all of my friends have died. Clouds are descending. The mourners pretend, to believe all the pretty lies. A tap on the shoulder. Smile as you close your eyes. [pause] The dead leaves are falling. It feels like they just turned green. So I’m finding it hard now, and maybe just a touch obscene. The quick and the dead, play games with my head- Am I seventy or seventeen? It’s funeral season. You all know what that means. [pause] [chorus] Tires hiss wet. Cars follow the leader. Time ticks tense til we’re lying in cedar. Worse than the hearse is that time ticks fleeter when you take a look at the parking meter. [pause] Everyone once born. Is some day gonna fill a box. So the kid with his jeans torn, is headed for some harder knocks. So what should we say now, but Kid seize the day, and you’ll never wear compression socks. Just jump in the pond after filling your pockets with rocks. [pause] It’s funeral season. Better not to answer the phone. You can hear the souls leavin’, And no one wants to die alone. Life is done teasin’. All blood is freezin’. The meat is fallin’ off the bone. A stitch in the shroud. Another date chiseled in stone. [pause] [chorus] Tires hiss wet. Cars follow the leader. Time ticks tense til we’re lying in cedar. Worse than the hearse is that time ticks fleeter when you take a look at the parking meter. [pause] It’s funeral season. It’s the funeral season. It’s funeral season. It’s a funeral season.
