Oh gangrenous ghost what will you tell them now? Your empires reign comes tumbling down ripped out hearts grew on trees outside our house now it's a cripple that hangs from those broken boughs and it's over your sad sermon is over
Walking home with holes in our souls I'll always remember the smell of your clothes some bark blackens with painful bruises one for each apple your orchard loses and it's over your sad sermon is over
And all the lies you told to me are gone and all the love we shared is lost and all the seas you sailed with me are gone and all the memories are lost
The branches sway against their weight the fruit it falls like rotten rain and when your sermons reach their end I'll be waiting for you then and it's over your sad sermon is over