I've been thinking a lot about
When the furnace goes
It's the absence of heat that hurts more than the cold
And I got caught in the irony of walking alone
Down an entire block that's just funeral homes and the ground below

Sad and sober Sunday afternoon
Sad and sober Sunday afternoon
You disappear in fragments and phases of the moon
Sad and sober Sunday afternoon
You disappear in fragments and phases of the moon

I watched parts of you dissolve
Turn to ash and then get carried up
I watched your memory fade
Shadows burned into the wall
And no, I felt my lungs turn into atom bombs
Choke on the Florida heat until the oxygen's gone

Sad and sober Sunday afternoon
You disappear in fragments and phases of the moon
Sad and sober Sunday afternoon
You disappear in fragments and phases of the moon
Or an empty room
Or the twelve-bar blues
Or a light in June

You were a bandit, and I was a car wreck
You were the decades on my feet
I was under purple blankets
You were a bandit, and I was a car wreck
You were the rifle on the wall and it was always going to end
You were a bandit, and I was a car wreck
You were the false rain that falls from a window AC unit
You were a bandit, and I was a car wreck
You were the rifle on the wall and it was always going to end like this