Tiny Funerals

I just keep on hoping today might be the day
Ne parle pas de mal, s'il vous plaît
Planned a 4pm happy hour, why am I'm crying on the bed?
Reset the clock, zero days without incident

We start our descent, a falling plane
All these heartless parking lots look like razor blades
Trace the tributaries through the scape
It's winding of the snake, it's the venom through the vein

I put on my cloak of kinship
Build a billion bridges to you
But you walked in on me naked now
And I cannot dress the truth
I'm starving like a marmot
And you're low hanging fruit
I sink my teeth into you
Wait for the grief to ensue

While a marred martyr marks each passing day
Since he sold his hope of solace for a sad sack of accolades
I'm not the bird in your hand now, and the bush was set to burn
It's the pact that sealed the curse in the backseat of the hearse

My black suit's looking tired
Been worn too many times
Attending our tiny funerals
This heart is formaldehyde
I swear it's been at least a year
Since I've seen the sun shine
The tap on my shoes from the rain
Has nailed my feet in to the mud of our grave