Funeral

Just a box of bones
Lowered and marked with a stone
In the north at the mountains feet
In the north to find some peace
Sing and dance like we were young
Scream all the joy in your hungs oh
Half with a heavy heart
But not with shackled feet

Oh passion, and oh passion
I must make more friends
They'll be hanging at my funeral
Just to make my parents proud
Just to make my parents smile

Skin under cripped skies
Tell the stories of most of our lives
We go alone but the past holds us here
We go alone but the past holds us here
Let's sing and dance and talk
Of all the dumb things I was before
Half with a heavy heart
Half to relieve my doubt
Oh passion, and oh passion
I must make more friends
They'll be hanging at my funeral
Just to make my parents proud
Just to make my parents smile
Coming around, when you coming around?
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, coming around...

Oh passion, and oh passion
I must make more friends
They'll be hanging at my funeral
Just to make my parents proud
Just to make my parents smile
I must make more friends
I must make more friends
I must make more friends
I must make more friends
coming around, coming around
I must make more friends
I must make more friends
I must make more friends
Just to make my parents smile, make them smile
make them laugh



Credits
Writer(s): Benjamin James Jackson, Ian Edward Dudfield, Joshua Louis Platman, Ralph David Pelleymounter, Jonathan Peter Willoughby
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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